isnt it really cool how your memories can just physically attack you at random

we are all broken pottery and God is fixing us with gold

you need to make your body into a place you can survive. no matter what that means. do whatever it takes. everything else comes downstream of this necessity.

i was sent as a test to see if a doomed person could undoom themselves out of sheer will

womanhood is an endless cycle of finding your way back to a younger version of yourself and nurturing them

you may be losing the idgaf war but they wouldn't even let me enlist. on account of my poet's temperament.

have you reopened the wound? will you reopen the wound? when will you reopen the wound?

it’s okay guys I’m literally as normal as a person in my situation can be