My friend is hope core itself.
I love finding her comments on people’s videos, Substack.

Gem of a human
Geta hoy.

If she treats strangers that way, just imagine how lucky I am.

Guess who is still at home.
Weynee😭😭layaschel ayset.
wechiii anchi beggg

I love old people. I love hands that have worn out from a lifetime of holding, building, cooking, comforting. I love how their concern feels so pure, how their honesty is harsh yet gentle. They carry so many things at once wisdom, grief, humor, quiet resistance like layers of a story written over decades. I love how careful they are, how easily they notice the little things we forget to see. I love how they move through the world, a little freer, a little more themselves, as though life has stripped away everything unnecessary and left only truth behind. They are living proof of survival of everything that can break you but doesn’t and somehow, they make me want to live long enough to become someone like them.

I think the time has come, or it's just a result of my lack of sleep.
We will find out in the morning.

Imposter syndrome.

My mom's way of rage baiting me is telling me to come to a family function, which I said I won't come to, and call me and give the phone to the family, saying they are mad at me. Mannnn I don't even want to get out let alone meet people.

Intrusive thoughts made my sunday tho lovely human goddd!

Funny how addiction is exactly what I’m doing here typing, sharing, spilling out thoughts I don’t even respect. I despise every bit of it, yet I’m not brave enough to delete it all and move on. So I just lie in bed and write nonsense, because I’m blocked from writing anything but nonsense. It’s pathetic, really a cycle that proves I have no self control.

Remembering I have free will so I kms.

Not good but good to silence it.

Hello peeps

Hope this energy translates back too you.
Takeee it its one of the good moodssss🫸

You only hear kids playing outside when there is no light, that's the only time I hear their voices.

“And paradoxically, because they didn’t know me, they knew me far better than anyone in my real life.”

“nobody knew anything about me. They didn’t know that I was a miserable, cringingly awkward kid whose voice often creaked with nervousness. They didn’t know I was late to puberty, and they didn’t know the names people called me at school”

Mebrat metaaa