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Whoever invented getting out of bed can go to hell

nobody misses the sea more than i do

if i try hard enough i can pretend that the gravel scraping against my palms and cheek and knees are grains of coarser sand. i can smell salt in street puddles and hear the roar of waves in exhausts. i miss home. i miss home. i do not know where to find it if not there, in the brisk winds and soothing stench of coastlines. in evergreens and saltwater taffy and winding snake roads between sea and deforestation. i was made for a simpler existence. do you feel me when i am not there, to wade in your tides and frolic in your sands; i am there, do you hear me? i scream and it is swallowed by eternal hummings and i walk this same road in circles. i work myself to a brink i am all too familiar with and the smell of garbage can be similar enough, just enough, if i close my eyes and listen to a recording of you. i am there. i am there. i am there, do you hear me, too?

non-practicing human being

my toxic trait is that i genuinely believe that the side effects of immortality won't affect me. i have so much stuff i want to learn i won't even notice the centuries go by. also i'm nosey as hell so the decades-deep gossip would keep myself from isolating from human society because i want to know what's going on. i would make such a good vampire i stand by this

just sink your fangs into my neck, man. it won’t be weird. i promise

ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to disappear at sea

[guy who likes to help everyone always but is also suicidal and some sort of pervert voice] no yeah you can drink my blood. It’s fine

does anyone else get jealous of other animals that get to live as proper animals, while we've convinced ourselves we're some group separate from animals and thus have a bunch of made up social rules to follow. like why am i not climbing trees and clambering through fields and making noises and having fun.