Birth is a curse, and existence is a prison.

It turns out that you can become the person you’ve always envisioned but you’ll still have the person you were before inside of you and you have to treat them with as much forgiveness and love as possible

im just someones weird sister

(person who learned from childhood to make themself as small and unimportant as possible to avoid being a burden) yeah its okay we dont have to do my thing if you dont want i dont mind

i wish every kitty in entire world would be ok

youve died a thousand times before who caaares just climb out of this grave again & again &agaian & agaian & again & again & aga

accepting that you’re objectively weird & owning it is infinitely better than being constantly desperate to appear normal to people who don’t even matter to you

at least theres still listening to music while staring at the ceiling

sometimes i say “i think” but actually i know. on account of being the knower.

some days you really do have to just find and wrench one tiny thing from the world w the determination of a hog digging out truffles and make it your anchor. raindrops on a window. smell of the bakery in the supermarket. single defiant tuft of grass between the cracks on the pavement. etc. hold it all w equally grubby and defiant hands.

“nobody is making you do this” i am driven by unnatural forces you will never even begin to comprehend