"Faith, Alfred. Faith.”

its probably a normal sign for the economy that all of my adulthood fantasies are like "imagine having your own kitchen living room and bathroom to decorate" "what if i could get on a train" "maybe one day i could purchase a sturdy pair of shoes" "i should save and invest in a single bicycle"

booing from the cuck chair

gonna show people my authentic self soon. just as soon as I get it perfect. soon. any day now I'll be good enough to open up to others

“Am I the only one who—” yes. You’re all alone. And nobody shares your experiences or loves you. And you’re floating on a raft in a dark ocean and there’s sharks and squids trying to get you and lightning is crashing and the water is choppy and black

worst part of anxiety/ocd is that sometimes your fears actually do happen and you have to wag your finger at i like this still doesn't prove you're right asshole. it's like having a venom symbiote except you don't even get to have gay alien sex