Crazzyyyramblings - Crazy

I love hearing boys ramble about shit I do NOT understand. You are so hot when you are incoherent. I’m glad you make sense to you though.

survival is an act of rebellion. jim loves you SO MUCH. i hope this finds all of us who need it today. please stay alive so we can make it out together. sending so much love and strength

what if we were tussling and roughhousing and it suddenly got more intense. what if we went harder and harder at it until our noses are bloodied and chests were heaving and we separated with ragged breaths, checking over ourselves for damage. but then what if we catch each other staring, what if we start to reach for each other with shaking, exhausted arms. what if we kissed, tasted each other’s blood on our lips and tongues

this might not be relatable at all but like. is there any other trans masc who isnt *nearly* as dysphoric without clothes as they are with?

cus like. if i look at myself shirtless its kinda like. yeah obviously i wish i had a flat chest but its like oh well i can deal with this for now.

but when im wearing clothes and you can see my chest with them on???? even if im wearing a binder?? i feel like ripping my hair off and do diy top surgery with the nearest sharp object i can find

ayoooo who wants our souls to be so intertwined that i cant do simple tasks without being reminded of you and you can’t see anything without thinking of me lmaoooo 🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂

I envy selfish people. Do you know how exhausting it is to always worry about other people and their feelings even if it’s at your own expense?

I’m hoping for an outcome like this :)

they tell you about school and they tell you about work and they tell you about taxes and responsibilities and ideals you have to reach. they don’t tell you about baking chocolate cookies from scratch at the ungodly hours of 11 at night and sitting on your kitchen floor while watching a home decor competition show while you get to munch on a cookie that tastes like the hot chocolate you used to make when you needed a reason to live as a teenager. they don’t tell you about getting to eat another cookie while you think about capturing this moment in a mason jar and shipping it through time to your younger self who gets scared so easily by school and work and taxes and responsibilities and ideals. your younger self who wonders if there’s still comfort, still good things, and if you get to claim them for yourself at some point or if comfort is always a question of dependence. they don’t tell you about that, when for years we do nothing but dream about moments like these

not actually alive, just a corpse walking in a suit of flesh