screaming. crying. throwing up.

feel free to cite the deep magic to me witch i was there when it was written but my memory is like REEEEALLY shitty

the sign in button?

You are an unreliable narrator because your coping mechanisms for your deep-seated trauma forbid you from acknowledging the reality of the situation. I am an unreliable narrator because I sincerely have no idea what the fuck is going on.

Just came home from a dinner party with the friendgroup at which several people kept saying "Ask Pedro" or "Pedro will know" and I was terrified that they were referring to an AI like Claude but no, thank fuck, they were referring to a cardboard cutout of Pedro Pascal that someone left upstairs and who has been designated a kind of patron saint status in the household.

words cannot describe how much i love showering. my wet contemplative box

april fools? on [tumblr] ? i see fools on here 365 days a year, pal.