I love it when he makes the neutral expression. The •_•
he's so
i love it.... he's so adorable...
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I love it when he makes the neutral expression. The •_•
he's so
i love it.... he's so adorable...

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Rodrigo Santoro throwback from set of "Hilda Furacao" in 1998 and a childhood pic rocking out the bowl cut/mushroom head trend.
Little blurb I wrote on chronic illness ♡
4 years and 22 days
or. 48 months and 22 days.
211 weeks and 6 days
1483 days, 35592 hours.
ill, how much longer until a diagnosis can be found. the little girl will pray every night. is it me(?)
2135520 minutes of missed oppertunities on bed rest.
2
1
3
5
5
2
0
of wasted oppertunity
i wish this on no one
"God, if you can hear me"
ig reels more like ig reals
not that anyone cares but I'm gonna write an essay on the existential nihilism of the trafalmadorian massacre (I hope this makes sense to someone)

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Happy AAPI month! (I'm not the moon, I'm not even a star but awake at night I'll be singing to the birds)
Tech come home the kids miss you
A little poem I wrote ♡
The glory of being able to be burnt out - Ira
As dementing as the thought was ,you wanted to be drained.
All you ever wanted was to be demoralized beyond possible rejuvanation.
You had heard the complaints from every oraface on this side of the sun.
You yearned to have high standards forced upon you, legacies to be nourished.
Your mother can see herself in your nimble body, you'll hear her sobbing outside your bedroom door.
She knows the cards you've been dealt are of the same suit her's once were.
Your father wont be the one to tell you that dreaming is a hobby your kind cant afford.
You'll never get to fit in the 'burnt out gifted kid' trope because even though you were reading Steinbeck in the 5th grade, knowledge beyond your years cant put dinner on the table.
Instead what you could do was...
leave the metropolitan (any sliver of pure bliss was abandoned in that seeming evangelical studio)
sell the "promising young ballerina" award from your first competition (your mother was crying during the ceremony but you cant remember why)
and start working 20 hour weeks as soon as you age (a slave to the industry will be your biggest achievment)
You will never experience the joy of having been stretched and spun.
You can tediously dish out your envy, knowing its futile.
And sell stolen drinks from gas stations.
Plug your ears from your peer's complaints.
If you're lucky, keep the night light at the top of the staircase.
But I will never hold the wretched glory of being eviscerated.
Was the card even ever on the deck?