A comic-con collided with a pride parade inside a library and I’m what was swept up after everyone went home.

Atlanta, Georgia
Joined March 2010
Hey yall, This is my final post here. I post semi-regularly on zachmack.me and from there you can find my other social platforms. Twitter used to be a great place, X.. not so much. See ya around! – at Atlanta, GA
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Here’s Ilco Munica with his “lightsaber” Nobody had the heart to tell him it was a part to his washer/dryer combo.
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And here’s Ilco Munica at the dentist – at College Park, GA
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Here I thought @SarahMillican75 had posted bush on main – at College Park, GA
Day off. Under a dog. Bliss.
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Day off. Under a dog. Bliss.
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Since I’m here less and less, follow me on my blog at zachmack.me And my pseudo twitter memo.zachmack.me – at College Park, GA
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This precious angel and his toy monkey – at College Park, GA
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No I’m not having an emotional breakdown, I come to the Orlando airport from London, starving, and muttering “you’re not gonna cry, you’re not gonna cry”… for fun! – at Florida, USA
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Would that I could stay in this moment. Possibilities endless and hidden. I might never be back. The thought of being still scares me more than the destruction of moving too fast. – at Stoke-on-Trent, England
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Sitting in St. Peter’s Square and a man just walked by with a shirt that read “CAN YOU FUCK” – at Salford, England
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There’s definitely magic here. – at Manchester, England
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Is she a model ? Who IS she? – at Manchester, England
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Them: look, I think you might be a bit starved of physical affection. Me:
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Ever wake up, not sure what day it is, can’t tell what time it is by looking outside and also: it’s Iceland?
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A relationship in two bags.
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“Someone else’s actions may affect you. But what other people choose to do is about them.” We were both quiet for a moment.. “Will it…will it ever stop hurting?” “Non.” Mum shook her head. “But it will stop mattering.” -“boyfriend material” by Alexis Hall – at College Park, GA
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I dunno why this book had to slap me so hard in the face like this – at College Park, GA
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After the storm is warm. wet. Peace. Broken and splintered bits of me driven into stone by gusts of you. Yet thirsty soil promises down deep in darkness It will not storm every day. – at Atlanta, GA
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Sometimes it’s a Friday night and you take a picture of your shoe in the night and fiddle with the settings because you’re bored
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