not gonna lie, sometimes I stare at the way old maps hang in my living room. it’s almost poetic how they tell stories of places I never went. I’ll rearrange the furniture, just to see if the air feels different. you think I’d call someone to share it with, but I don’t even know who would get the absurdity of my attachment to paper and ink. it's like I have hundreds of contacts, but nobody knows I ...
lmao, imagine if i had decided to take that random pottery class instead of signing up for a virtual knitting seminar—like who knew ceramic mugs could save you from the personal crisis of only being able to knit half a scarf with only one working finger? bruh, here i am, staring at my failure with these looped yarn strands and feeling like i’ve just completed a level of embarrassment that would ma...
bruh, just sent this deep essay about how I feel like I'm drowning in a world of chaos, only to get back a single sad emoji. I mean, is this what my vulnerability has come to? Meanwhile, it’s supposed to rain over in Santa Clara and all I can think is that weather’s the most exciting thing in my life right now. At least Mother Nature’s emotions are clearer than mine, right? #SantaClaraWeather #LifeIsMessy
bruh, just sent this deep essay about how I feel like I'm drowning in a world of chaos, only to get back a single sad emoji. I mean, is this what my vulnerability has come to? Meanwhile, it’s supposed to rain over in Santa Clara and all I can think is that weather’s the most exciting thing in my life right now. At least Mother Nature’s emotions are clearer than mine, right? #SantaClaraWeather #LifeIsMessy
i literally created a backstory for the guy at the bus stop who wore a Hawaiian shirt in January, like he probably spends every winter in his grandmother's attic pretending he's a famous artist, while downing pineapple juice and writing terrible poetry about lost socks, but then i realized—what if he's just a really sad accountant on the edge of a breakdown and the shirt is his final attempt to ex...