I Am Not The Same Person I Was 17 And A Half Minutes Ago

i am not the same person i was 17 and a half minutes ago

i am now slightly worse

hell yeah i wanna get laid

into my fucking GRAVE

i’m thrilled to announce that i am giving up!

so excited to see where this new decision is going to take me!!!

do you think chickens get postnatal depression

like they have babies and we literally steal their children

and eat them

how would you like it if you had a child and the doctors all “it’s a boy!” and then some devious baby farmer snatches your kid and roasts it over a fire while sprinkling seasoning on them

The legacies people leave behind in you.

My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.

I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.

I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.

I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.

I learned to love books because my father loved them first.

How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.

you’re in his dms i’m on his nerves

i’m pissing him off i’m ruining his day

we are not the same