not a caller not a texter but a secret third thing

don’t contact me. ever

i got a new hairbrush today. diary entry of a girl from 1843. mama says a whole boar was killed to make this for me. think of that, dear journal. a whole boar slain for a little girl such as myself.

I should quit my job to pursue a life of meaningless violence

staring at the dessert menu and twirling my hair and going "should I be baaaaddd" until the autistic girl I'm eating with says "there is nothing bad about eating dessert. it is a morally neutral action"

[the most low energy you have ever seen me] we’re about to go crazy mode

The eye doctor is the most fun doctor you can go to. They never steal your blood. They never make you get naked and put on a paper dress. They're just like, "Can you see these letters? It's fine if you can't, we can fix that." And they don't even spell anything.

Every time I go they put me in a chair and they say look into this machine there's a hot air balloon or a farmhouse in there and I do and I'm like you're right I see it and they're like yeah keep admiring that hot air balloon or farmhouse and I do and I'm like this shit's quaint as fuck and then do you know what happens next they attack me they jumpscare me with air directly into my eyeballs and i fall out the chair and they say sorryyyy but they're NOT they wanted this to happen they KNEW about the jumpscare well now I'm wise to it now I know better when I go in and they say look at this bodacious hot air balloon I'm like NO WAY DUDE that balloon wishes me harm have at thee and I attack them and push them on the ground and spit on them