Dearest Gaud,

Dearest Gaud,

I do not know what you are made of. I would like to know what you’re made of. Please tell me what you’re made of. Please please please please please please please please

I do not appreciate how my brain functions on both cat logic and vampire logic. You need to invite me to talk or look at you or exist, until you don’t and I never shut up and get offended that you’d let me yap that long

I love when someone asks if I do something that happens to send me into trauma flashbacks. And I mean things that they’d genuinely have NO IDEA would do that. But do I let this upset me? No, no. We end up being like:

“Do you listen to Mother Mother?”

“Not since the incident”

And then they nervously giggle while I explain the incident in full detail <3

One time, my old group of friends tried to guilt me into going on a roller coaster with a weight requirement because of a drop. I didn’t meet the weight requirement. The told me that I should just go any way and then made fun of me and called me a pussy for being scared. Yeah, I was scared. Scared of being hurled from a fucking roller coaster and like eighty miles per hour. And the best part of this story is that the thing BROKE before they even got on it.

I don’t talk to these people anymore.

This was a real conversation between a friend of mine and I