ss pals

very well

ss guap duty

I'd just like to take this moment to admit that I love everyone at my work. I'd like to be adopted by my newfound Vietnamese family. I would like to be engulfed so much so that the traces of my being Filipino gets washed away and I am born anew. On second thought, I will never wash away being Filipino. I can't complain too much. However, I'd still like to be able to understand what everyone is saying, instead of numbing myself at the thought of hearing just sounds. I learned one word though. Just one. One 3-letter word. Take a guess.

I'm fuckin surrounded

I'm noticing this idiot pattern where guys will more likely respect a girl if they've got a boyfriend. Key word is more likely. And by respect, I mean "be hella wet about." Humans are weird bruh. We will never even come close to being as great as sea otters.

Can't tell when I've stopped comparing myself or my life to anybody's. Can't tell how I'd brushed off some gargoyles off my shoulders. Can't tell where I'd gone the passed few months and how I can now manage to surface up. I feel kind of sunny even when I'm low. I feel kind of pleasant even when I can hear it whisper. I didn't realize how cavernous and malicious it had been until I'd gotten my first breaths back. I'm still probably choking, but at least the wringing has loosened.

I am not, and never will be, obligated to have a thirst for life. Neither am I obligated to love life. I am here and that's the best I intend to offer or display; my aimless, erratic, and unintended presence.

ss alternatives

I never thought I'd have to be anxious or concerned about accidentally having wet dreams on someone else's bed.

Never thought I'd become obsessed with annoying someone and watching their eyes roll.

However

I have lately been laughing till my sides are sore.

I have also had swarms inside me for days on.

The former and the latter have no relation
-wake up on the verge of coming
-watch eyes rollback
-cry and drool
-was that a moan?

drunk me, unapologetically

-gets weird
-hits on everybody's girlfriends
-excessively compliments
-excessively talks mad shit
-inquires about everybody's well-being/comfort level while simultaneously making everybody uncomfortable
-"these fucking assholes..." points at general group of people
-picks up Scottish accent
-slurs in French
-swallows dignity/self-respect for the sake of uncontrollable and chaotic freedom of speech
-is an aggressive feminist/lgbtqa warrior
-is apologetic but also persists to be a douche
-rich until the well runs dry
-pukes in your luggage the day before your departure
-creates bizarre call log
-seeks life advice while simultaneously giving one
-airs out insecurities
-hits on everybody's girlfriends
-hits on self
-puts arm around the nearest available shoulders
-loopy and emotional
-loves to hold hands
-what about college?
-dies

Deeply Offended

In my experience, being offended may only occur if the the offender (or their opinion) is valued by the offended.

I'd just been deeply offended, and I can't fucking believe it.

Word count for root word offend: 6, counting the bolded root

Word count for root: 3, counting the bolded

Word count for word: 5, counting the bolded

Word count for bolded: 4

Word count for count: 9

Uhm.

This took a swerve.

Things to hate, 2015 till infiniteen

•rapists
•racists
•sexists
•homophobes
•meanies

ss screenshot

This newly found confidence I have in myself tastes like ice water. It's the kind of magnificence where I'll screengrab a picture of my face from my own snapchat and then fucking stare because I think I'm fucking adorable as fuck. It's sass slaps pervading idly. It's smug smiles and a melodic fucking laugh. I am my own dream boat, and I smell fantastic always. I guarantee it.

You know that last scene in Carrie (the original) where her bloody hand bursts out from below the dirt? That's me. That's how I've been feeling. I'm that bloody fucking hand, and I might love you like I love me.

Goodnight.

gorgeous

holy toledo

That's one handsome son of a gun

constant disposition

ss me

The moment I realized that being with someone isn't going to cure or solve or fix my head was the moment I knew not to regret ever letting anybody go. It was the moment I stopped pressuring myself to "find" someone. It was the moment I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I feel better than I did a year ago. Two years ago. I feel better because I'm smitten at the thought of myself. I figure if loving someone is going to fail me, and if having been loved wasn't enough, at least I glorify myself enough to stick both my middle fingers up and nod along carelessly to anybody's dull standards. The inner mechanisms of a manic depressive, hey.

Jesus fuck, I'm relieved that all that pain was worth it. Jesus fuck, I'll be as narcissistic as I want to be and never apologize for it. Jesus fuck, if I ever decide to step down my own pedestal to put someone else there instead, I'll bet all I have that she'll be prime as fuck. Or he. I'm mercurial enough for that.

ss shit

i can't be up at six in the morning actively thinking about you. that's too much. I stare at my fucking ceiling, listening to my organs shifting inside me.

It's because i smell nice.

I know it.

cute