I have a bunny suit and it’s silly, I know, but it’s probably the most comforting thing I own. It absolutely tickles me to have it on because, for the obvious reasons, I feel fucking great to be in a pink bunny suit - but also because I can not wear it without considering the significance of how this silly thing came into my life.

Here are two pictures. I considered putting the long version of these stories here, but they’re long and probably too personal. The first is of my friend in Shanghai, China showing me how to properly eat Korean food. The second is a karaoke club with a bunch of Japanese/Chinese lesbians. The boy is my best friend (odd to say, but for the short time he was in my life, he’s owed a great deal and that’s why I say this without reservation). This all connects to the bunny suit in a funny way. But I need to keep in mind that this is the short version. I guess the fastest way I can put this is that the bunny suit belonged to that pretty Chinese girl and [through a chain of events] she gave it to me before I came home.