super high.

well the horrors of the deep find me irresistible so whatever

"save me, substance abuse!" i cry. before you can moralize to me about the dangers of addiction, a noble and powerful steed gallops into the room - my horse whom i have named "substance abuse". you learn an important lesson about making assumptions. i snort a line off its back

When a whumpee is typically perceived as lazy and everyone thinks they're playing up their exhaustion/burnout/illness to get away with doing nothing but it's really just that all the hard work they've been doing either happens when no one else is there to see or just goes unnoticed/unappreciated

my taste in men has gotta be a form of self harm

*mumbling around the slide of a pistol*: "wow babe not very safe sane consensual of you"

died and came back right. there was definitely something wrong with me before? resurrection fixed me i think

died & came back & it's creeping people out how well-adjusted I am now? everyone's on eggshells waiting for something terrible to happen. honestly i feel terrific