Polkadot

They should have a spell or some kinda craft for dry text, right? Cuz im in need of one tf

You don't know what emotional recycling means!?

The public display of affection. The gooey, cheesy, I-want-to-throw-up-a-little love-fest. I swear, the air itself became viscous. It was like walking through a vat of melted marshmallow fluff mixed with cheap perfume.My delicate sensibilities couldn't handle that level of saccharine overload. I could practically feel the couple's romantic energy oozing onto the floor, forming a sticky, sickening puddle. And the pet names they kept throwing? I'm pretty sure I witnessed a full-on romantic osmosis, with my very soul getting sucked into a black hole of sickening sweetness.

For once, I make this hard decision to get out, and the whole world is out?!?!?!?

my fear of my missing out has led me to places i wouldn't go without a gun *relax stressfully* in 'public' cafe

I thought I'd found the center of their universe, ready to retreat. Turns out, I was just admiring a particularly shiny seashell on a beach that stretches on forever.

You will miss these mundane things. Those little things you always thought are insignificant, and when you realize how big they are its already too late -mom

when kafka wrote "love doesn't discriminate between the sinners and saints, it takes and it takes and it takes, but we keep loving anyway, we rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes"

i think loving is much easier than being loved. you have more control when you're the lover. but to be the beloved means to be vulnerable and open and have faith that it's not going to hurt you and believe that you deserve it

to be seen and to be loved is such a strange feeling.

"If you don't believe you deserve love, you will never be able to feel it. And you will make it impossible for someone to show you they love you. They might buy you flowers and you'd think they did it because a flower shop was on their way. They would text you and you would think it's because they're bored. They would tell you they love you and you won't be able to believe them because it wouldn't make any sense to you." Reminded me that this was rotting in my saved massages.

Oh, honey, the solo symphonies of my inner monologue are legendary. I’ve held entire TED Talks in my head, debated the merits of pineapple on pizza with myself for hours, and solved world hunger (at least in my mind) at least three times. My brain's a never-ending brainstorming session, a chaotic board meeting where I'm the CEO, the CFO, and the intern, all simultaneously arguing and agreeing with each other. And the soundtrack? It’s this hauntingly beautiful, yet utterly nonsensical, tune that only I can hear. It’s like elevator music composed by a caffeinated elf with ADD – catchy as hell, but makes no logical sense and keeps playing even when I'm trying to sleep. It’s a constant low hum of mental chatter that, sometimes, even scares me a little. And yes, I talk to myself a lot. My therapist tells me it’s healthy. I tell her it's just efficient. We're still working on that.

i once wrote in my notes, "You believe you are hard to love n that's why you're hard to love." and honestly a big fuck you to myself for writing that

"you aren't hard to love because of some deeply rooted, fundamental flaw of your character. you are hard to love simply because it is hard to love someone who refuses to accept it." ouch.

isn't home itself exactly that? the place where most of the awful things in your life have happened, and yet you come back to it and it feels like. well. it feels like home!

familiarity can make so many awful things feel like home

like I don't even have to be part of the group just treat me like a cat you bring along to the hangouts

hate it when my brain is thinking of a word but can't quite find it and after a while of searching i become convinced that the word didn't even exist

you can't feel like a disappointment if you are consciously aware that you are one. then you know you are a disappointment. two very different things