how the fuck is it december this week
The math books warned us about you
today: depressed
tomorrow: depressed
next week: depressed
next month: depressed
next year: depressed
next life: depressed
*sees moon* *remembers outer space* nice
my circle so small i be talking to myself
>at the graveyard
>rotten hand thrusts out of the dirt
me: *holds it*
i love a bitch who look like she can fight
My taste in music ranges from “you need to listen to this” to “I know, please don’t judge me.”
what i have learned from talking about my feelings
- it’s better to not talk about my feelings
im in philosophy and were talking about how you can doubt everything’s existence except for your own consciousness and the guy that sits in front of me just turns around tears streaming down his face and goes “i am on so many drugs”
me: [listens to own playlist] me: fucking masterpiece
Am I cute? No. But do I have a nice personality? Also no
Do you want to avoid people? Drink water. Not only will you be hydrated, you don’t have to talk to people while drinking water, then later you’ll have to pee, which means you get to avoid people even more
People often say they hope their deceased pet dog is chasing squirrels in doggy heaven… what did all of those squirrels do to deserve an afterlife of torment?
Dog heaven is also squirrel hell it’s a very efficient system.
i can’t stop fucking laughing at the thought of squirrels sinning so much in the mortal plane that they have to be sent to squirrel hell to atone
They know that the bird feeder isn’t meant for them
I’m a big fan of that post-laundry feeling when you’ve got all your A-list clothes back in the game.
the older you get the more you appreciate just chilling at home doing nothing
remember being 9 and all the shows on cartoon network at the moment sucked and you had no internet and you were like oh fuck i guess i’ll roll down a hill