NOT SKYRIM. I REPEAT, NOT. SKYRIM.

At my work chuckling at the silly little bar staff who only know how to do their silly little bar things

it can be therapeutic to admit "actually my childhood was deeply fucking awful." not "my parents tried" or "there were good times too" or "I was lucky in certain ways" but solely to acknowledge "I went though some fucking messed up shit what the fuck was that about "

If you want me to stop texting you constantly then just start being very dull.

Can everything just like... Slow down for a minute? Like I'm over here trynna get my shit together and the ever continuous flow of the universe isn't helping.

Hello. I’d like to play a game.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling.

If he decides to reach over and touch you, like a prayer for which no words exist, you will feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for. If he does not, there’s a pipe bomb attached to the vehicle’s engine triggered to explode. You must admit your love any way you choose, but you must admit to it. It is the only way to survive in this world.

Most people are so ungrateful to love, to be loved, to be told they’re loved by the one that loves them … but you won’t be. Not anymore.

I made a friend :)