hate when someone asks how are you and you say good how are you and they say "oh not so great" or something. it's always like ohh okay i see we're being honest i thought we were playing pretend. can i have a do-over

getting to that time of the year where the sun will straight up project childhood memories onto your bedroom wall at about 3 or 4 pm

i hope all of this is a dream i’m having at the age of 7

peels the moon, separates it in halves in gives one of them to you because i love you

when john berger said that the small things we do for each other are ‘commas of care’ and thinking now of every book that has been recommended to me and every song i’ve loved that has been shared with me and every movie i’ve watched because someone dear adored it and each one of those is a stitch in time, bright and gleaming, in whatever the pattern is of our own little lived-in tapestry of lives, and a placeholder for love bc when i come back to all these things, i come back to the love that gave them to me first, commas of care that let you pause and go on.

My dad was eating pistachios so I reached my hand out and he just started peeling them and giving them to me. Then suddenly went “I really hope you find someone who loves you a lot” and I went “enough to peel my pistachios for me?” And he laughed and said “yeah exactly” before carrying on giving me more