frank ocean • PREZA • 555

vega

look mom. no hands.

LA is a bubble, one large iridescent bubble.. soap and ocean water. floating. at least it lets the planes out. & only the ears pop, never the bubble. after you leave a while you’ll miss it. although, you can really miss the worst things.. a cigarette, a doomed bus. easy tiger, i hold a deep affection for los angeles and it’s oppressive sunshine. moms is moving here this summer, my kid brother’s going to middle school. middle school. fuck, i’m getting old.. in los angeles. 

cred: garagisme

trying to imagine in advance what i was never intended to know.

just locked myself in the trunk of my car. claustrophobia conquered.