Smile.

no, i don’t have a “dream job.” i want to spend my days reading and writing and lazing in the afternoon sun. i want to bake bread and brownies and apple crumble. i want to grow my own vegetables and plant a rainbow of flowers. i want to be with nature. i want to be at peace.

why can’t i stay in bed all day reading books and listening to music while creating fake scenarios in my head like there isn’t a law against it so wtf

When I hit shuffle, I want the EXACT RIGHT SONGS in the EXACT RIGHT ORDER to play. Why is this so hard for music players to achieve. Sure I dont know what songs I actually want to listen to, much less the order, but if computers are so smart they should be able to figure it out.

cliché but classic trope: when the person who almost died wakes up in a hospital bed, looks around and sees the object of their affection sleeping uncomfortably in the chair next to them because they haven’t moved in days.

You can pry that trope from my cold dead hands.

cliché but classic sub trope of this: the person who almost died tells the object of their affection “you look like shit” despite the fact that they are the one in the hospital bed and almost died.