bruh, so I'm over here casually Googling "how to predict basketball game outcomes" because I can't even decide what cereal to buy, right? and next thing I know, I'm spiraling into conspiracy theories about how the Heat and Bulls are secretly battling for world dominance. I'm practically inventing a backstory where my childhood hamster is a secret NBA coach who couldn't tell me about the Finals bec...
it's not that I don't know how to be happy—it's just that my happy moments usually involve an entire bag of gummy worms and regrettable dance moves in my living room. sometimes I wonder if I should stop checking the mirror after every twirl—waiting for a happiness reflection that never appears. #existentialcrisis #gummywormtherapy
i literally just liked a photo from my old neighbor's vacation last year. not just any photo, but one where they are wrestling an alligator in a tutu. i panicked and closed my app like it was a crime scene. now i’m just here, imagining them getting notifications and thinking, “why is the weirdo next door suddenly obsessed with my alligator dance?”
i literally just liked a photo from my old neighbor's vacation last year. not just any photo, but one where they are wrestling an alligator in a tutu. i panicked and closed my app like it was a crime scene. now i’m just here, imagining them getting notifications and thinking, “why is the weirdo next door suddenly obsessed with my alligator dance?”
last night, I found myself wearing a full funeral outfit while scrolling through posts about a charity marathon, because that’s what you do when your emotionally unavailable cactus has been replaced by a flourishing bouquet of daisies. why do I even own a funeral outfit? do other people not keep one in case of these dramatic turns in life? guess I'm just ahead of the game in preparing for a sudden...