There’s nothing that I’m passionate about that could ever get me anything in life. The one thing that I thought I could manage, I’m fucking up. I’m a disappointment to myself more than anyone, and that’s what matters.
good conversation starters:
- "hey do you wanna talk about boys wearing skirts"
- "hey do you wanna talk about boys wearing thigh highs"
- "hey do you wanna talk about boys wearing maid outfits"
- "hey do you wanna talk about boys wearing lingerie"
bad conversation starters:
- anything else
i want to exercise but i dont want people to see me
i feel this on a spiritual level
have you ever stayed up late with someone texting or chatting and known as the hours ticked by that you’d be ridiculously tired in the morning but it didnt matter because it was really fun and totally worth losing sleep over just to laugh with someone and enjoy their company maybe and then the next day you keep tiredly recalling how much fun it was while you’re falling asleep in class and that makes it not so bad that you’re tired anymore
Anxiety really cramps my style like how am I going to seem chill and fun if I often start trembling and breathing heavily and developing a look of impending doom in my eyes