being in my 20s is like I understand more of my mother and less than i ever have. My childhood friends are strangers to me and there’s no one i know better. i want to drink wine. i never stopped wanting to climb trees. i know more than I’ve ever known before. I don’t know anything at all. i’m seven years old and sixteen and twenty nine and seventy. I can’t tell when i'm happy. I think the only thing that will make me happy is to be little again. i want to be really old. i go to the ocean and feel like nothing matters more than that. in my bedroom everything matters so much. I go to the grocery store every day. i know how to cook a lot of things but the only thing i know how to eat is fried eggs. I can take care of myself but i want to be taken care of. i want to go home and I don't know where that is. i think it may be somewhere inside of me but i’m not sure

nothing like rereading a book you loved when you were younger only to realize the author can't write

Seriously though like, I missed the boat on this whole radical honesty thing. I guess everyone wants to be true to themselves now? That’s…great…but like you’re really only ever going to meet a select few people you can be totally honest with about everything. Lie to strangers! Lie to authorities! Like damn didn’t you have parents that told you never to tell people on the phone that you were home alone? When the interviewer asks if you ever experimented with drugs, you say no! This is not a therapy session! He’s got no business asking you that anyway! Lots and lots of people are not entitled to your vulnerability. Damn.

I follow my grandmother’s rule: it’s only a lie if they have a right to know.

this is why blm will always come before acab

not enough people reblogged this last year we gotta really try this time to have a Happy Wildcat New Year™