living is poetic

I allowed myself an audible burp one time a couple months ago and ever since then I haven't been able to control them.
rather than doing my laundry I just keep buying more underwear.
I'm learning that some things are probably best to keep to yourself.
While leaving the bathroom of the doctors office holding a cup of my own urine I passed by a boy who can only really be described as a Greek god in sweatpants. I was mortified when he looked at me until he raised his own cup up to mine, as if he had just finished giving a toast at his sister's wedding, and said "cheers".
the only real poetic thing about love is that it is that anyone can do it.
I have ripped approximately 12 pairs of pants in my life
Typically I can't stay awake for more than four hours at a time, but no one seems to be too concerned about it.
I wear my shirt inside out so often that you would think I am trying to start a new trend
I have come to the realization that my daily life could be called a number of things. Poetic is not one of them.
But the fact that I am here, the fact that literally billions of things had to have happened in order for me to happen, the fact that when I was born I became improbable and unpredictable. The fact that I am here.
That is something.

In the grand scheme of things,
we’re all dust.
People like to use this
to make a point–
nihilistic nay-saying
about how
“nothing matters”
and
everything dies.
But if we’re nothing,
we’re a whole lot of it.
So that’s something,
right?

— Ashe Vernon