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Hello there!!! Welcome to my place!!!

Hey there! Thanks for dropping by! If you eat tacos, stop reading and kindly escort yourself to the nearest door or portal of Death, both work. Just don't eat tacos. So I'm a taco, that is my species. Uh...yeah. I'm also a king, a king of tacos. See? I'm cool. If you're reading this it either means
a) You care about me (awwwww lyt <3<3<3)

b) You've never seen me before in which case please enjoy you're visit and I promise I'm not weird (well that's debatable, no shut up thoughts that are probably right)

c) I'm dead (in which case my parents have probably taken away my devices or I'm dead irl, but this is less likely. If I do die irl I will let all of you know)


writing(duh), reading, coding, playing with my dog, photography


King of Tacos

Poetry is my cheap means of transportation. By the end of the poem the reader should be in a different place from where he started. I would like him to be slightly disoriented at the end, like I drove him outside of town at night and dropped him off in a cornfield.
— Billy Collins