thirteen billion years ago

This friendship has survived catastrophes

A+ for horrible people being friends till the end

Sorry about the sleeping

Last night my pals and I ranked all my exes from least fuckboy to most fuckboy. That's the moment I realized that I'm sickeningly done with heterosexuality. That's it. I'm grossed out and passed all the dick. Every single one of them was a fuckboy. It depressed me into premature slumber. I'm in this bizarre stage in my life where I shudder at the memory of having a fuckboy penis inside me. Shuddering right now, as I type this.

Thousand apologies to younger me for not knowing better. For not realizing you deserve so much more than the track record of goodie guys with average dick.

The next time you see me with some dumbass Filipino guy, check if I still have a pulse. (I bet I won't).

shit head

I can feel my tiny little gay heart attempting to sink its teeth into one of those fucking deadly ones with the vicious, glistening smiles that ask me for my insides.

Through denial, I would buy a lung infection for this.

head tilts toward apathy

i felt nothing at the sight of it.

Finally.

lucky sake

Nothing feels better than being a server to all the lesbians. They tip better than the best tip I've ever had. Wink, bitch.

One Ariana Grande song getting stuck in my head post-work is one too many Ariana Grande songs getting stuck in my head at all.

"Have you ever felt numb with contempt?" ..was my moment to shine who I truly am, even for just a moment. I am the nefarious one. 

I will not regret playing favorites between coworkers. I like the ones who bare their teeth.

But I give a half more shit when the kitchen staff gets pissed off.

I might be sorry about the server-complex that I am starting to develop. Still more sorry about the lactose intolerance that I have certainly developed.

Maybe we can't be friends. I'd feel too bad.

repose of the sad body in the silent grave

books with inscriptions make fine gifts. Especially when you find it wedged in between baby jesus and baby jesus' manger of the nativity scene on your front porch. 

heater up to 69 but never 70, is this kid a perv

It's alright to outgrow people.

It's alright not to laugh.

Ina Garten is truly comforting.

Lactose intolerance is just further proof that life is full of compromises.

Be altruistic. Be fucking kind. It won't kill you. Hufflepuffs are not lame just because the series made them seem like wimps. Cedric Diggory was a hufflepuff and he was FANTASTIC.

Moreso, don't fuck people up. Don't do it. Cruelty is such a human concept. And it's embarrassing. Don't destroy people. At least try not to.

Understand what you're really tripping about. I mean REALLY.

Coffee makers change lives. I drank decaf last night just because. I know I said death before decaf but people change.

Also, sleep will trump most things in life. The only thing that could win a battle against sleep is hunger. Although, I am a firm believer that the Sleepless Games would make a finer series than the Hunger Games. Imagine a tyrannical dystopia, delirious from exhaustion, and fighting for survival. Jennifer Lawrence will not participate. I'd make sure of it.

It's alright not to finish notebooks cover to cover. A few blank pages are nothing. The measurement of a year doesn't define you. Remember the art of letting go?

Imagine yourself at the airport and impetuously deciding not to go to baggage claim. How important are your belongings that abandonment isn't a problem? Maybe that could also apply for emotional baggage. Fuck it.

Southern California is insanity. Southern Californianians are insane. I want no part of it for as long as I can help it.

Be your own coping mechanism. Friends are just varieties of coping mechanisms. We are each other's goddamn coping mechanism, wouldn't it be a ball to be your own?

Optimism comes in bursts. Pessimism comes in crawls.

Stay sharp.

Do you understand control yet? Is discipline a thing again? Can I manipulate my chaos yet?

"Oh please" is the only phrase I need to speak an entire language. I can reduce my speech and entire diction with "Oh please" and it paints volumes.

Have a laugh. Just have a laugh.

braless and harmless

i have a goal right now and it's to wear pant suits. Back off.

I feel like sophomore year all over again when I blew up so carelessly. I can't live like this????????

uss midway day satch scratch

I took a selfie with some ship because I was in a chill mood at some point today B)

(That is, disregarding the livid rage that consumed me during other points of this trip. S/o to the SoCal population for blowing chunks).

I come home to the bay soon, just in time for ex mass eve. (Not soon enough though). I'll surely survive. Maybe if I hold my breath, Christmas will whiz by me without any sense of realization. I'd like that. I don't hate it, but I certainly can live without this holier-than-human holiday.

Cheers to the rest of you though. Stay happy, ya filthy animals B)

Senti mental

If I've known you enough or at all, be sure that there's already a fictional version of you floating in my mind. There are no exceptions. I've created your stories, every one of you. Any one person I've met could elicit for me at least three characters. I read through these stories and, unaware of it, picture a face I'm acquainted with.

One day, my god. One day.

ditch the dentist

slap on a whitening strip and drool.

I like splitting my lips open and pressuring out the blood because the stinging makes me feel cute.

Hold on to my belly aches. I'm still upside down.

frightened eyes

it's not four am, it's two, but this time zone i know is otherwise.

There's a veritable draining coming out of me. This is it. I've been waiting years for this.

It dried up.

sorry about being such a dick

sorry about being such a weirdo too

and being creepy sometimes

and for all the intended passive aggression

i just don't understand warmth right now.

feather report

Real luv must be the glorious days before my laptop left me. I am now merely a shell of the person I once was. When I sulk sadly, it's a guarantee I'm mourning my lost friend. The thing was my best friend. It was the only computer that I never felt the need to use an incognito window. THAT MUST BE REAL LUV.

I don't think I could even get myself to own another. I'm ruined. Nothing will ever be good enough.

Where's the goddamn remote?

fm radio

I still can't bring myself to listen to that shit.

Hello it's me again.

It's four am and a distant helicopter outside is mimicking the whirr of my stomach. Thanksgiving had just passed and I'm already thinking about next year's feast. If had a choice between having freedom of speech or possessing some high-tech gravy dispenser, guess which acquirement I would choose. I'm in an intimate cahoots with gravy. Leave us be.

Haven't felt like sharing any thoughts lately. I've been sleeping on the foot of my bed for two months now, along with spending an inexcusable amount of time in the living room, melting into my couch. That in itself is an evident indication that I am experiencing a transitional time. The dull buzz of television programming I still find comforting, like some childlike relapse. I think it's the scheduling. Every program had a slot and you can always expect it to be on at that time. At this very moment in my life, I know ABC Family's schedule for when I need to numb my brain. I know the according channel of every late night talk show host. I know to tune into Oxygen when I feel like marathoning some show. Reality programs such as Becoming Nuns is slowly easing itself into my preferences. When I feel calm enough for decency, I watch HGtv.  I wrap myself up with blankets and I fold myself into a vegetable, wasting away on my couch.

Furthermore, I've been having less and less desires to be outside, spending time with my own friends. At most, I'll hang out with jaws because, get fucking real, that's the most comfortable time I spend with anyone. I don't miss company, and I can't even tell if that's unhealthy. Tomorrow. Maybe I'll get out tomorrow. Or maybe I'll just hope that work calls me in. I spend my days off waiting to be at work because at least that way, I'm getting paid to be around anybody.

Speaking of, I have not been getting asshole customers lately. I've been getting a lot of great tippers actually. It might have something to do with the fact that I now pregame before any of my shifts, which means I unavoidably become more convivial and less scrutinizing. I like my job (right now). But I've already got my guard up for the moment I start hating it or being bored by it. Stay tuned.

We're spending the holidays in San Diego. We pleaded not to end up in souther California. We really pleaded.

I'm exhausted now.

We can all be exhausted.

marl lights

the lethal eventuality of a break-up peeks with an unreal velocity. the post-break-up fringe exists more so than just that. it is significantly symbolic enough to be a tangible spectacle. the post-break-up fringe is a newborn lifestyle. it wails and pisses and shits and eats and demands an exhausting amount of attention. it's beyond the impetuousness of a haircut that'll probably hang in front of a newly single face. it's beyond the newly craning neck muscle to acknowledge other birds. they are, in fact, risen anew. they beam or dim a different shade of light. they are forces that insist to be reckoned with. proceed cautiously from here.

i can't stop listening to katy perry

what's happening?

join me on this journey

it won't even hurt