…and This Is My Bedroom Aka My Isolation Station™

days keep happening to me. and nights also. no say in it whatsoever

Im gonna shuffle my giant playlist of every song i like and if the very first one that plays isnt exactly what i want to hear right this second im gna lose it

never stop being a good person because of bad people

I have a lot of thoughts

writing job applications and thinking that perhaps I wasn't made for this world

you don't. other people can not limit your inventory they can only judge you for it, and that is irrelevant.

why do people always only expect you to have one thing. one disorder one pet one gender one pronouns one name one favorite movie one crush one best friend. like why do I have an inventory limit

kinda sick of all those posts that are like "my ancestors were surviving starvation and the plague meanwhile i get nervous ordering food at restaurants". as if jauffrey the woodworker didn't fumble his conversation with the fine maiden running the fruit stand and then tripped on a pebble as he left in a hurry

I'm tired and I miss my dog.

I want to be the house that my children’s friends want to come to, because despite whatever they’re facing at home, they’ll know they’ll find a second family with me and mine.