I Can’t Remember What Six Year Old Me Was Wishing For Throwing Coins In The Fountain And Blowing On

my asexuality is best described as the minecraft 1.17 update

“caves and cliffs” but without the caves and cliffs

does anyone wanna share a thing of fries

hate it when I call myself a girl and then someone goes "you're not a girl you're nonbinary/agender" and it's like. I am whatever I say I am. freak. I am a girl I am a little guy I am the man of the owl. I am nothing. I am everything. do not presume to know me in anyway I do not know myself

don't put flowers on my tombstone if you've never cared for me when i was alive.

you can call me an phone on silent mode because i get shaky when given too much attention

this whole “never repeat outfits” shit is not working for me. i get attached to one oversized sweater and that’s all you’ll see me in for a week

“““You’re not a monster,” I said. But I lied. What I really wanted to say was that a monster is not such a terrible thing to be. From the Latin root monstrum, a divine messenger of catastrophe, then adapted by the Old French to mean an animal of myriad origins: centaur, griffin, satyr. To be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning at once.””

—

— Ocean Vuong, from “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous”

thinking about how when you experience a lot of shame in your formative years (indirectly, directly, as abuse or just as an extant part of your environment) it becomes really difficult to be perceived by other people in general. the mere concept of someone watching me do anything, whether it's a totally normal activity or something unfamiliar of embarrassing, whether I'm working in an excel spreadsheet or being horny on main, it just makes my skin crawl and my brain turn to static because I cannot convince myself that it's okay to be seen and experienced. because to exist is to be ashamed and embarrassed of myself, whether I'm failing at something or not, because my instinctive reaction to anyone commenting on ANYTHING I'm doing is to crawl into a hole and die. it's such a bizarre and dehumanizing feeling to just not be able to exist without constantly thinking about how you are being Perceived. ceaseless watcher give me a god damn break.

“For what was a person but the sum of all the scraps of their memory and experience: a finite set of components with an infinite array of expressions.”

—

Laini Taylor, Strange the Dreamer

so i'm going to make a new jacket patch