#a core memory

when I was 6, our preschool got a new set of play dough and for the entire day I went around asking ppl to please separate the colors back into the right ones after they're done playing with them. and ppl did, we had a nice fresh colored play dough and I was optimistic we could have good colors for weeks, if not months. I happily went home, confident my pals were going to keep it up. However, the very next fuckin day when I came back, the goddamn play dough was all mixed up and muddy; the fuckers had stopped doing that as soon as I had left the building. that's when the darkness in me began. the cynicism. the lack of faith in ppl. it all began in that moment

I have the vaguest memory of my first vent art. When I was like four, I drew a picture of my favorite Nickelodeon characters (Danny Phantom, Timmy Turner, Spongebob and Patrick, and Jimmy Neutron) beating up my brother because I got mad at him. I can't remember why but that memory makes me giggle at times. LMAO

why go to therapy when you can go to an mcr concert and scream that you're okay now across time and space to your thirteen year old self