dustypinkbrain

there’s something so evil about being constipated like why is pooping suddenly a privilege

i have a 'productive pile' on my chair. if i move it to the bed, i am going to be productive. if i move it back to the chair, the day is over. this is my sundial. this is how i track time.

i am a 1-star yelp review of a human being.

your girl has achieved absolutely nun in life. please clap.

woke up at 3 AM with the deep conviction that I need to start a niche podcast about 19th-century embroidery patterns and the inevitable heat death of the universe

currently being fueled exclusively by the low-grade anxiety that i forgot to turn off a very specific lamp in a house i haven't lived in since 2018

there is an extreme, quiet comfort in watching the shadows move across the floor in the late afternoon. It feels like the earth is just breathing.

trying to curate a life that looks like the inside of a slightly dusty, very specific antique shop where all the treasures are just my own memories.

dressed like a girl who knows three prophecies and none of them are good.

he texted me “get home safe”, so i won’t. i will not let a man win.

girly has hit a reading slump so bad, the books sit there more as structural support for the dust in my room than for reading. if i open one the ecosystem would die. i must continue collecting paper bricks for the aesthetic of having a mind.

if i stop fidgeting with my necklace for 2 seconds the windows xp shutdown noise plays and i die.

certified lover boy? just say you’re a whore

horror movies are becoming so ass, do better, make my heart stop

you can't spell silly without ill, and baby? I'm diseased.

morning darlings, remember to start your day off with the sluttiest bread jam sandwich ever!!