greetings!

It's so funny to me that Mary Shelley, her husband, John Polidori, and Lord Byron had a competition to see who could write the best horror story and she wrote fucking Frankenstein. Imagine losing a competition that badly. Imagine just doing a silly little competition with your friend and she basically invents a new genre and creates one of the most famous characters in fiction. Imagine being proud of your little story and then she shares one that people will still read every day in 200 years. Imagine doing a writing competition with your wife and she becomes so recognizable that you'll always be known as Mary Shelley's husband

love when cats hear that you've woken up even just a little bit and they're like hiiiiiii oh my god oh my god!!!!! i wrote some poems in the night let me recite them for you. this one is called: screaming and knocking your water bottle off your nightstand

onto better things thursday

sometimes it's OK to skip a song you like when u don't feel like it at that moment. u r not hurting its feelings

when i have a crush i dont kick my feet or twirl my hair instead i am in my kitchen at 3am pacing in circles with my hands clasped behind my back like a middle-aged divorced detective haunted by a cold case he just cant crack

no more blue in your life. is this rest? is it supposed to feel restful? sitting with your heart breaking under the big sky. waiting for a text that doesn't come; googling am i codependent? googling anxious attachment. googling make me better. when you get in the car, for a moment, you smell her. if it's like this, forever - missing her, forever - you'll come apart. there will be no yarn to pick at, no seams. you will just unravel. gently, quietly.