Good News: I Wrote Today.

good news: i wrote today.

bad news: it was at 3 a.m. and i’m thriving.

i nearly finished an art project and it's so close- but i've lost any and all interest in working on it. But it's so close to being done. This is torture. I'll finish it. But I want to do something else. But it's so fucking close to being done.

"i'll take a 15min nap"

wakes up an hour later, alarms blaring throughout the body. we're sick now, the left arm is not responding, and we've lost contact with three of the five senses. also the brain is refusing to turn on

before i accuse a story of being bad i must ask myself one crucial question first: am i perhaps fucking stupid

I want your blood on my tongue. I want to break you open and crawl inside of you. I am a monster because of the things I could do to you that you wouldn't be able to stop me from doing.

-tj klune

'It's eighty five degrees outside why are you wearing a jacket?' Because my outfit FUCKS next question you poor, poor, swagless fool