your life is not an optimization problem

as in you'll never achieve the perfect daily routine, sleep schedule, coping mechanisms, mannerisms, fashion sense etc. even after years and years of healing and improvement and self-discovery. you will never be so good at life that you manage to utilize every waking moment. its great to be productive and all but sometimes you'll suck ass. sometimes you'll take eight hours to be done with a twenty minute job. you'll prioritize the wrong thing. you'll sleep for 12 hrs just to avoid being awake. you'll relapse. and you'll relapse again. you'll forget to turn in the assignment. you'll order too little food. life is far too large and complex for you to even experience it completely, much less try to make sense of and control it. you can't. please give up on that and be at peace with the hours you lose. they are not separate from your life.

like the first rule of cooking is to have fun and be yourself and the first rule of baking is to stay calm because the dough can sense fear

Whereas you push little dogs over and they’re all like “Vengeance! Death before dishonor!”

I am. Dogs never know what to expect from me. I walk by and suddenly they’re on the ground and don’t even know what (figuratively) hit ‘em. I don’t even stick around, I vanish into the wind and they never see me again.

I cannot get over the assassination happening while I was trying to get coverage for my testosterone. Imagine going into the pharmacy all excited to get your first ever testosterone prescription but find out it costs 800$ out of pocket for a three month supply and UHC won't cover it. So then you wait for your provider to get back to you about changing your prescription for an entire week and a half, and during that wait someone just. goes and fucking murders the CEO of your insurance company. Like they just kill him on the street. They had so much calculated hatred for this guy that they even engraved each bullet that hit him. Then, as if the heavens themselves opened up entirely to watch brian thompson descend into hell, your testosterone is ready two days later for pickup, and only costs 10 delicious dollars.

i have developed a much more viceral understanding of why bank robbers were widely regarded as popular heroes in the 1930s

I’ve seen some spectacular snark coming from the case of the dead CEO, but the one in response to the request for the public’s help in finding the culprit “Sorry, snitchs get stitches and that might not be covered by my insurance.” Is among the best.

I’ve had enough historical events for one week. What do you mean it’s only Tuesday.

what do you mean it’s only Wednesday.

you're not ascending to godhood you're just dehydrated

outta my way gayboy i'm boutta liberate my divine self from this mortal shell

hopital

Ignoring the real possibility he intentionally let himself be caught from the little we know so far Luigi Mangione's case is a fascinating combination of astonishing brilliance and confusing stupidity. This young man plans and executes his assassination and escape with such a meticulous care and calmness that it's suspected that he's a professional hitman. He comes up with Riddler-sque moves like writing his manifesto poetically on the bullets and leaving his backpack behind full of Monopoly money. He carefully wears a mask to avoid being identified but removes it because a woman who was checking him into the hostel was flirting with him and wanted to see his smile. He still manages to escape the most surveilled city in the country in the midst of ongoing national manhunt only to get caught in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Pennsylvania while eating at the McDonalds. Because for some reason he had the same clothes and mask as in New York and was carrying the same gun and suppressor. And when the cops detained him he showed them the same fake id he used in New York. And oh yeah he's a frat bro gym rat who has a masters degree in computer science from Penn but reads stupid self-help books about being on the grind and is 'anti-woke' while being bisexual suffering from anxiety and wanting to end oppressive capitalism. Not even god himself could invent a person like this

take figures out of their boxes btw. sew patches on your favorite jacket. go to bed with your favorite plushes. wear the pants you usually save for special occasions. draw something cool on your wall. put a sticker on your laptop. dye your hair and pierce your lips. glass is meant to break, metal is meant to rust. items are meant to be used. that's how the world knows that somebody loved them.

adding to this, soften the papery edges of books with your touch, wear down your best shoes, cherish your scars, paint your nails, tell yourself the creases on your face look beautiful. life is too short and a single person in the vast universe is too insignificant to keep worrying about things lasting or staying the same they've always been. nothing ever does. have the courage to love things to death.