ingénue; me.

“fuck it” has helped me through so many situations in life.

i am once again fighting the urge to fake my own death, move to a small city, and open a little bakery/bookshop where people can escape from the harsh reality.

The voice in my head is noisy, intrusive, spinning wheels of insecurities and has very strong opinions about me.

Soon it will be Autumn and Persephone can go back to pegging her husband in peace and I can wear a fucking jumper

every book i’ve ever read is now deeply rooted in my personality and self-identity i cannot change this

yes i talk to myself she has some good points

fuck capitalism i just wanna read

rachel bloom is everything to me, ok

yike, the greek goddess of passive distress and mild horror

i'm sick of feeling tolerated. either adore me or despise me. cowards