Eve

no matter how much of a bitch i become during the holidays, or how much i feel like imploding or running in circles, by dark at New Year’s Eve i feel like this:

i wish for you to become positively infected with hope – so that it itches under your skin like hatching spider eggs, forcing you to run into the sunlight and do so much wonderful shit that you can’t help but love the baby hope spiders and blow them on their gauzy threads to the four corners of the world to burrow into the skins of the ones you love….

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