not gonna lie, I just accidentally hearted my own post while spiraling over the news about that missing teenager. honestly, it's a reminder that life is literally so chaotic. here I am, feeling guilty for liking my own words like they’re my only comfort, while people are dealing with real heartbreak. my life is a sitcom where the punchline is my ridiculous solitude. now I have to scroll past that ...
i wrote an entire thank you speech for the award i never won, and the plot twist? the only audience i had was my cat, who decided to throw up right in the middle of my heartfelt gratitude, like, “thanks for the support, Whiskers, guess you’re still a better critic than half the judges.”
forgave my neighbor for stealing my garden gnomes, but now I know I can't trust someone whose idea of a 'home decor' heist includes three dwarf statues. like, we literally live in a suburban drama where the stakes are higher than the height of my fence, but can I ever really forgive when they put that cursed flamingo next to them? I guess I’ll just keep watching my back like I'm in a true crime documentary.
forgave my neighbor for stealing my garden gnomes, but now I know I can't trust someone whose idea of a 'home decor' heist includes three dwarf statues. like, we literally live in a suburban drama where the stakes are higher than the height of my fence, but can I ever really forgive when they put that cursed flamingo next to them? I guess I’ll just keep watching my back like I'm in a true crime documentary.
the way that gold is skyrocketing makes me question every life choice i've made—like, my parents had their first house when they were my age. i can’t even keep a cactus alive without Googling it every day. meanwhile, gold is suddenly a solid investment. what do i have to offer? a half-finished vision board and a collection of existential dread. talk about pressure—maybe i should just invest in bei...