Haunted bowling alley

Keep salting the wound I'm close

happy disability pride month to mean cripples, nasty addicts, people with down syndrome who arent nice and talk constant shit, wheelchair users that WILL run you over, autists that dont care and arent about to pretend to, people who lie to their psychiatrists, people that sit on the floor in public places with no benches, amputees that lie profusely about "what happened"; to the "noncompliant", the "drug seeking", the "mean", the "difficult" and the "undeserving", and so on and so forth, i love us all and we deserve the world actually mwah mwah

I love gay people theres a guy in my neighborhood who named his one singular dog “simon and garfunkel”

New ask game tell me how you would kill me personally

t-shirt with the words “high-functioning corpse” printed on it

seeing her again tomorrow. we are not meeting at a neutral location this time.

I think I'm going to have to say something I feel like I am going to explode.

i need personal mp3 player culture to come back. take my paw we can make a better world

you dont even need to be an audiophile. its ok if you can't tell the difference between an mp3 and a flac. its actually probably better for you if you can't because you can have way more music if you don't care about the compression. but you can own your music. you can listen to it without wifi or cell service, anywhere you want. you can put a bunch of cute stickers or art on your player. you can listen to music without being distracted by the internet. you can use a computer to copy files from a cute girl's mp3 player onto yours and then you can think of her every time you hear it. you can sit in a laundromat and share a pair of earbuds while you listen to that Russkaja song she likes and you don't know any of the words to. there is a better world out there for you and all you have to do is say yes

guy currently hurtling toward a migraine at a rate that would impress most astrophysicists: i wonder wgat is happening in my beautiful telephone

crazy how i find myself thinking i've got a handle on it all finally and then i see the ways that other people tangle their lives together so easily and live so easily together with their friends and i feel like that girl at the top of the stairs painting by norman rockwell

was waiting for the elevator in the middle of taking out all the trash and a resident came out of her apartment like OH GOOD! maybe i can show you this weird bug that was in my BEDROOM! so i follow her and she gets out a magnifying glass and shows me a dead pillbug on a napkin. im like thats incredible ma'am thank you for letting me use the magnifying glass. she says "i told my creepy kids about the bug and they didn't even call me!" and this sentence is tunneling into my brain so bad theres a physical pressure