Paperback dreams

Another day of being a sweetiepie. Just clocked in

Sick of this shit it’s time to be a rotted cunt

I’m making it a habit to say “drac u later” when I leave a room and “I’m backula” when I enter a room

art will save you, being unreasonably passionate about something niche will save you, letting past sources of joy show you the way back to yourself will save you, earnestness over composure will save you, the natural world will save you, caring for something bigger than yourself will save you, daring to be seen will save you, kindness not as a whim but a principle will save you, appreciation as a practice will save you, daring to try something new will save you, grounding will save you, love will save you, one good nights sleep will save you

the thing is that childhood doesn't just end when you turn 18 or when you turn 21. it's going to end dozens of times over. your childhood pet will die. actors you loved in movies you watched as a kid will die. your grandparents will die, and then your parents will die. it's going to end dozens and dozens of times and all you can do is let it. all you can do is stand in the middle of the grocery store and stare at freezers full of microwave pizza because you've suddenly been seized by the memory of what it felt like to have a pizza party on the last day of school before summer break. which is another ending in and of itself

“every time i see this celebrity they look younger!” cool, it’s plastic surgery

it’s not pilates, it’s not skincare, it’s not moral virtue manifesting in the form of physical beauty, you’re not gonna grow old like that, they didn’t even grow old like that, and the cosmetic procedures you can afford are not gonna look that good

also the new popular comment to make is "lol [actress] has taken the substance" and it's like...yeah. that's what the substance was about

That's a raccoon