im like if a girl was miserable all the time for reasons which are easily identifiable but nevertheless impossible to do anything about
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"don't make me hate you. loving you is painful enough" excuse me? harry? damn.
❤14
wasted the majority of my saturday on instagram exactly like a full grown adult with thoughts and potential, reduced to a thumb and a dead stare. watched people i don’t like live lives i don’t want, saved posts i’ll never revisit, absorbed information that will never help me survive a single real conversation. my brain feels like it’s been microwaved. and for reasons unknown to god or science, i was posting SO many stories. i don’t even like posting stories. every time i did it i felt mildly exposed and deeply embarrassed, like i was oversharing in a room full of people who did not ask, which is insane, because it’s literally my account. i could post a wall and no one could arrest me. yet i immediately want to disappear. i keep telling myself "five more minutes" like a liar with no respect for time or self. now it’s evening and i’ve achieved nothing except mild neck pain, a bruised sense of dignity, and a fresh wave of existential disgust. i think i need to stop this right fucking now before i look up one day and my personality is just reels, doomscrolling, and regret. even this post was extremely unnecessary but posting here is fun and no one fucking knows me so hooray and cya
❤20😭3💯2
being part of the college magazine's team has got to be my top 10 worst decisions because what are these lame ai writeups people are turning in?
😭14🤪3