I Sure Don’t Remember Taking My Trash Out, So Someone Must Have Snuck In And Replaced It While I Was

How does life work for the shaker family in Blue's Clues. Did Steve buy them from the store? Did they come with the house? Where did they come from? Are they mass produced? Are they just a completely separate race? Does Steve actually use the salt, or is that disrespectful to them? If he does use it, what happens when it runs out of salt? Does it die? Is it like a sacrifice, that pieces of its spirit leave its body every time Steve wants to season his dishes? Does pouring new salt into the shaker give the bottle a completely new spirit, or is that the same person? Is the spirit actually stored in the bottle, and the salt is just a tether to the mortal realm? How did they conceive Paprika? I need answers

I’m gonna JoJo my Stardew. Every new file will focus on the child of the previous file’s marriage. And they will all be named after birbs

We start with Pigeon

The great thing about Tumblr is that I can share my thoughts with the world. I’ve always liked having private thoughts, but having someone know what they are every once in a while and respond is rather nice as well. No one’s really paying attention here, so I can say what I want, and if someone likes it, they can see it and move on. I’ve shared it. And very few people will know. Unless I somehow for some reason become famous, then something went wrong along the way.

My friend offered me a ride home but I already had a ride so I didn’t go with her, but as she drove away she shouted “I love you!” out her window and I just kind of

*melts in a puddle of happiness*

like wow okay you actually care about me I didn’t know that awesome

I’d say at least a fourth of my life is spent telling people, “I was going to go to sleep, but . . .”

I mostly just want to go to sleep. Also to watch Legally Blonde, but mostly to go to sleep.

There was once a time where I would respond to my mother calling my name by asking "what did I do?" because the only reason she would be calling me is if I had done something wrong. It's not that she would ignore me or something during other times, she just always thought I was doing something wrong.

My anxiety @ other people really be like “Hater until proven otherwise, anything you say or do can and will be taken as an offense and any compliment or kindness will be considered a deception and therefore render you as a suspicious, untrustworthy individual.”

I'm here now. I'm in college, I'm still alive, I WANT to be alive, and I have friends I love and adore.

Still don't know how to write a book, but I'm doing my best!

I don’t go anywhere and I don’t do anything and I don’t have close friends I can trust with my life.

How am I supposed to write a book if I don’t know what living feels like

I’m hungry but it’s 1am and I don’t want to wake up my parents as I fumble around the kitchen for thirty minutes as I try to find something to eat.