rubayia

we should talk more about how every decision you make as an adult leaves you with the same sensation you got at a friend’s house the morning after a sleepover when you’re the first to wake up. It’s dreadful and a homesickness and loneliness and you want your cups and you want your comforter and it’s just you on your own trying to get through.

November is all about taking afternoon naps and waking up disoriented from the realities

haters will try to convince you that theres only two months left of 2022 but really we are still in 2019 in every way that matters.  2023 means nothing to me

no, i don’t have a “dream job.” i want to spend my days reading and writing and lazing in the afternoon sun. i want to bake bread and brownies and apple crumble. i want to grow my own vegetables and plant a rainbow of flowers. i want to be with nature. i want to be at peace.

every single time i care i get proven why i shouldn’t care at all

no one tells you how much of life takes practice. not just writing, painting, running, singing, etc, but practicing how to make friends. how to make the right ones. getting practiced at how to be a good friend, a good sibling, a good person. practice identifying when people haven’t earned that. learning to recognize your right to rage and, eventually, how to offer mercy. so much of life is muscle memory, and i’ve begun to realize there are so many more parts of ourselves to flex and stretch and strengthen than those we’re taught in anatomy lessons