paul mccartney in 1971

and I know no one will save me. I just want one honest kiss.

the dreams of running away to the sea in the summer is the only thing making me go through the days

I’m so miserable, I’m looking up pictures of the sea and the beaches and the forests and the cows like I’m so desperate for this shit. I’m tired of being somewhere I don’t like where no one likes me.

it’s lowkey crazy how winter is terrible for my joints and skin and bladder and sleep and everything else like I’m old as shit

contemplating my mess of existence with the guy from cure whispering in my ear

how I feel reading virginia woolf

fridays are all about planning a future you can’t really remember by saturday

kendrick and sza are right like if its fuck me then fuck you

I know it’s not too late but it will be soon and that’s the terrifying part

anaïs we’re really in it now

ever since I was a little girl I knew I wanted to become an absent father

and DID!

ever since I was a little girl I knew I wanted to be the one that leaves

reading the comments on any social media

many men do not see women as autonomous human beings with a choice over their bodies and it’s always violent to be reminded of it.

too lazy to become my dad, too depressed to be my mom, just insane enough to be the uncle who went and lived in the forest alone for years

everytime kieran culkin wins something over jeremy strong an angel gets new wings