Escapism With Birds

I did the being edgy and self-deprecating thing, it gets old. I wanna be soft and lovely and easily impressed. I wanna appreciate all the little things that make me happy the same way I’ve dwelled on every single thing that upsets me.

me @ me: stop spelling the names of the places you made up wrong,,

everyone sharing their twitters and other social media in case of this website experiencing an all-out collapse. not me. use the information you’ve learned about me to track me down. piece together the cryptic clues i have left throughout my blog over the years in preparation of this day to decipher the location of our future meeting. i’ll be waiting

me: i wanna write

someone: then… write?

me:

Capitalism kills art

Have I posted this yet

JUST LET ME BE.

“why do writers asks for comments so much”

idk, why don’t you try being ignored after spending hours on something and see how it feels

Author problems: when you have the right idea but the wrong words and you’ve been trying to force them to fit like mismatched puzzle pieces for 16 drafts and counting

i hate when ppl make fun of me for trying 2 be positive and spread good vibes like fuck your bitter ass i spent a good portion of my short life being bitter and angry and suicidal if i wanna shoot sunshine out of my ass then i fuckin will 

the worst part is when their all “we can’t all be neurotypical, Karen” like listen, I’m not neurotypical I’m just trying to get better jesus

Even Bigger Mood