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"No one wants to work anymore." Damn right brother. If I could sit in a beautiful field for 40 hours every week of my singular precious life I would
when i have a crush i dont kick my feet or twirl my hair instead i am in my kitchen at 3am pacing in circles with my hands clasped behind my back like a middle-aged divorced detective haunted by a cold case he just cant crack
I don’t want to write emails, I want to gather a long skirt in my hands and stand with my feet in the river.
life gets better. dont get into jujutsu kaisen
stories where the past is a wound that refuses to heal
ok stories where the past is an itch you keep absentmindedly scratching and wonder why the burning is getting worse
all i’m saying is: the past is a bodily sensation









