Polkadot

I'm blunt thank you for listening

Yadda yadda I'm an ass in communication

Yes,bro catcall girls. What you gonna do? Bro could be me for all that matters...stay y'all

Stop making it a big deal? No. I was crying over something stupid—something tiny, something that isn’t even mine to feel. It doesn’t affect me, doesn’t concern me, shouldn’t matter at all…but it did. And I hate that I can forgive everyone else without hesitation, lift them up like they’re untouchable, yet when it comes to myself I can’t let anything go. I tear myself apart for the smallest things. Why is it that tears get labeled as weakness? Why did I grow up believing that breaking down was something to hide? And no, I don’t care about tears of happiness—I never had them, not once, not until now, and even then it felt foreign, like my body didn’t know what to do with joy. Sometimes I swear I’m going to snap open one day and pour out everything I’ve bottled up—turn into a damn waterfall, the kind people laugh at because it’s too much for something so little. And maybe I will be a joke. Maybe that’s what scares me. But right now? I just want to cry. I want to let the tears fall for things that aren’t even my business, things so tiny and ridiculous and childish that I’d never admit it out loud. I want to soak my sleeves with feelings I’m not supposed to have. I want to stop acting like I’m too strong to break over “nothing.” I don’t want to be that person who later forces a laugh, stares up at the ceiling, and mutters something to diverge on looker from me- just to pretend it didn’t wreck me for a minute. I want to feel it. Even if it’s raw. Even if it’s ugly. Even if it makes no damn sense.....

Normalize cancelling schedules at the last second cuz simply you don't want to...tf is wrong with that, huh?

I'm busy I got auditions for sleeping beauty!!!

Guys who use the phase 'Real men'? pivot faster that a stock market crash

And uhhh no I don't have anger issues it's your stupid ass

Fuck early friendship yay

: I'm kind of here for it, bro. Or... bitch. Whatever feels right in the moment.

Oh, darling, isn't it just the most charming little quirk? The moment a man's lips part, whether it's for a "Good morning" or a declaration of undying devotion, there's this tiny, exquisitely refined voice in my head that just... screams 'Liar.' It's not even an accusation, really. More of a preemptive, affectionate interjection. Like my soul's built-in, perpetually caffeinated lie-detector is doing the Macarena, even before the last syllable leaves his pretty little mouth. It's like a sixth sense, but for impending fibs about 'being busy' or 'just grabbing one drink.' A survival mechanism, perhaps, honed over generations of navigating the delightful complexities of male communication. And honestly, sometimes I just want to cup my hands around my mouth and bellow it across the room. Just a crisp, clear 'LIAR!' echoing in the hallowed halls of his barely-formed sentences. Not out of malice, you understand. It's on bases of consistent artistry of it all. It's almost cute, how utterly predictable they can be. Almost.

I'd rather be funny than good looking...but good thing am both, y'all stay safe tho

Digital pen pal i love you dude

Music? Im trying to ignore the horrific audio from my stomach

I could be lieing and make you think what you think is the lie.

I want to gather your skirt in my hand and run in water? Weird thought

being vulnerable is embarrassing. being seen is embarrassing. wanting is embarrassing.