unslakable thirsting in the backyard

must feel good as fuck to curse a prince for being rude to you while you were larping as an old woman for no reason

The older i get the more i understand why some people become obsessed with privacy, not because they’re hiding something, but because being constantly perceived starts to feel spiritually exhausting.

One of the things that gets me about Midsomer Murders is how determined everyone is to carry on with their lives. I think multiple murders in my small village would distract me from the sewing competition / guinea pig contest / dance show, actually.

sometimes being a fan of something means not wanting them to make any more of it

Analog horror series about your friend getting a boyfriend

the circus is empty, all of the monkeys are here

doomed by the narrative AND haunted by the narrative AND a secret third thing (mourned by the narrative)