She: Tell me your favorite joke.
*LONG TIME PASSES*
I asked you to tell me a joke D---and you were just all like, I'm gonna go head and ignore this fuckin' text.
Him: I don't know jokes.
She: So why didn't you just say, "I don't know jokes?"
Also, bitch, please.
Him: What's with all the'tude?'
She: I'm just encouraging you not to like...be lazy, you know? Like, this shit is lazy.
Him: When are you coming to New York?
She: I don't know, never.
Him: I'm having an early night. Goodnight.
Him: I really wanna fuck again.
She: I'm having an early night. Bye.
She: Can you tell me a joke?
Him: Haha hi Rachel
Him: I tell kids to tell me their funniest knock knock joke, and when they say knock knock I say come in.
That's so kooky of you.
Him: Kooky sounds like cookie
So, what's up are you famous yet?
She: Lol. Oh, I'm "getting there."
Are you famous yet?
Him: Naw, just rich.
Him: I bought a big breakfast this morning and paid for it.
Him: So what the fuck is New? I don't talk to anyone except C---
She: I talk to everyone.
Him: I talk to C---- other than that I pay student loans and think about A---- and kissing you hahahaha!
She: I'm just writing and being a "talented" tragic, dying bitch.
Him: That's not happy, at least you're a "writer" who gets the dick
Look on the bright side
She: Oh yes, very bright.
Him: Don't look too close.
She: What are you doing?
Him: Editing this feature.
She: Oooohhhh. Fancy.
Him: Hearing girls tell me I'm a "player" and being hated on.
Him: Sitting through their darkest secret stories.
She: That sounds amazing.
Him: It's mostly wet and sniffly. Not really shades of grey or anything.
She: I thought you had a girlfriend or something.
Him: She went bye bye, because that's where all the naughty girls go.
She: "I used to love her....but I had to kill her..."
Him: Naw, she was kind of a bad person.
She: Was she taking advantage of your sweet ass rich people breakfasts?
Him: Yeah she was poor as hell
She: What a bitch.
Him: Well, that was just one of the things that attracted me initially.
She: Why? So you could like own her/use her?
Him: No, so I could rescue her.
Sure. Own her/use her. Same difference.
Him: I was pretty fucked up at the time.
She: Cute, cute.
Him: She was a mess and I felt really bad and she had an incredible body, so yeah.
She: That's so...you.
Him: One day disney will adapt it for an animated film I'm sure.
She: Are you happy? Are you dying?
Him: I'm doing good. I'm sorry to hear you're dying.
You should eat some ice cream or pray.
But it's also really amazing to hear from you.
I feel like if I open up to someone they would die, so I'm just gonna joke around instead.
She: Lol. Haven't I always been dying though? I mean, aren't I always sad and fucked? Isn't that the appeal?
I really miss you actually. I think about you a lot. Not to be serious or weird, I just do.
Him: Yeah, well, you should talk to me sometimes. I'm cool.
She: Yeah, that would be cool. It would be cool to talk to you sometimes.
Him: I shot some macro video of some ants eating an earthworm this morning. The earthworm was writhing around and the ants just took turns biting it until it was dead.
I had a dream last night that a guy was trying to kill me and I pushed my thumbs into his eyes. I didn't know I would go to that point, but I mean, I guess like, I went for it.
Have you ever considered meditation or just like...toning it down in general?
Do you think I should? "Tone it down?"
Him: Naw. Punk rock forever.
Do what your "heart" tells you.
She: I just want to be a feral person and write a book and get choked out by sleazy dudes sometimes and die soon. All things considered, I think I'm on the right track.
Him: True life: I live like I'm a Chuck Palahniuk character.
She: I don't know, maybe. Like maybe I'll continue living because it's hilarious how much I love my own suffering.
Him: I worry about being old sometimes, but then I realize that I'm sitting around thinking about being old and that gets boring and then after a while I do something because I'll get used to being old over time anyway.
She: That's "solid" logic.
So like, you're basically just drinking wine while girls tell you about how their dad didn't love them? That sounds really good to me.
Him: We can do that sometime if you want, maybe. I don't really drink wine, but I remember drinking wine with you.
She: Okay, we can do that. I'll cry for you and you can take me out to breakfast.
Him: Yeah, breakfast is kind of a healer.
She: I love going out to breakfast.
Him: I love nothing. hahahahaha. Well now that that's out there, I feel better.
She: That's good. You shouldn't. Heart full of black 4evr. You should just like "rail" as many bitches as you can without condoms or whatever.
Him: Haha. I'm chilling out on love. I think I saw what it did to people who "went there." I keep having dreams about the last day of high school. Last day of high school dream...every night.
She: I don't know. When I think about people I supposedly "loved" it's a joke to me now. Not because love is a joke in general, but like...because it's a joke that I thought those people could love me.
Him: I get addicted to approval sometimes, but I'm aware of it, and I know it's bullshit, so I think it's okay.
She: I used to be afraid that people would be more "successful" than me, and that would make me really sad, but like, everyone just grows up to be a sad fuckhead in a graveyard of broken dreams no matter what. Once I realized everything is a joke, I became a different kind of insane person.
Imma be a happy fuckhead
In a way, there's some healthy perspective there. Somewhere.
She: I just want you to be a rich creep with a nice wife and a cheap whore. Like I really want that for you. I want you to be a happy fuckhead filled with unrealistic delusions. Forever.
Him: Haha. You're so sweet.
She: Why are you not "out" right now?
Him: I was editing. Didn't feel like going out. Good question though. Nobody is as cool as me so...
Fuck. Now I miss you.
Why aren't you out?
She: I don't know this alcoholic war veteran with a brain tumor who goes to weird mountain sex parties invited me over, but like...do I really want to "go there?"
Fuck. You're right, maybe. Maybe I am a Palahniuk character. My psychiatrist said I remind him of Marla Singer.
Him: I wonder if heaven exists.
Maybe see everyone, you know?
She: I hope not. I'm gonna just try to see people while I'm "alive."
Him: Well, you're welcome to come here.
Him: Text me sometimes. I promise I'll get back to you.
She: I will. I'll talk to you sometimes. Have a good night. Like, sweet ass dreams of the last day of high school or whatever.
Him: Thanks rachel, I'll talk to you later.
She: Talk to you later m---.
Him: I had to backspace because I wanted your name to be in lowercase...bc...I just wanted it to.
She: I put your name in lowercase because you put my name in lowercase. FYI.
Him: I noticed that.
I know I said bye already, but I'm looking at JFK autopsy pictures and it's crazy.
She: We have to stop talking. If we don't stop talking it's gonna be like, that thing where you're talking to a boy/girl you like and you don't really want to go, but you have anxiety about the other person being bored of talking to you so you feel compelled to say bye first even though you don't really want to and then you just keep talking until each person feels like they got a chance to end the conversation like 30 times.
Him: Yeah, you're probably right.