Im Surviving Solely Off Of Books, Coffee And Maladaptive Daydreaming

BEHOLD!!!!!!

i have never wanted anything more in my life than this little grumpy old-man frog. he is beautiful. he is majestic. but he is not mine :(

he would be king of the world if plushies could be elected into positions of power.

look at him. grumpy old man. oh, what woes burden your little froggy back, froggy man? he'd totally yell at kids for kicking their footballs onto his little toadstool garden and squashing his herbs.

feeling a little goofy, might take part in an ancient ritual in the middle of a forest with a group of insufferable greek students and accidentally kill a farmer whilst in a state of pure enlightenment, idk

why do i have to work. like why can't i live in a quaint cottage in the english moors with weather-worn bricks smothered in ivy and bake soft loaves of bread and gooseberry pies and wear bonnets and floaty blouses and carry a little wicker basket in the crook of my elbow and go blackberry picking in autumn and paddle ankle-deep in pebble-strewn streams and-

"self-care," i whisper to myself for the fifth that day as i create a new pinterest board to save my silly little pictures to instead of acknowledging the ever-growing pile of revision looming on my consciousness

girls don't want teddies or chocolates girls want you to pick them up after they cut their foot on glass whilst wading in the lake at their friend's family's mansion in the woods and when they insist that they're too heavy they want you to smile, showing a slight chip in one of your front teeth, and insist, "you're as light as a feather."

girls want henry winter.

i am girls.

literally all i want in life rn is a thunderstorm. like i wanna wear an oversized cardigan that i can wrap around myself whilst i sit gloomily at a window watching the slashes of silver lightning streak the sky with a mug of hot berry tea and a candle to read a jane austen novel by. pls.

yes girl you are so [if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more] [hands are unbearably beautiful] [i'll take care of you it's rotten work not to me not if it's you] [if you are intolerable let me be the one to tolerate you] [i could recognise him by touch alone] [i love you i want us both to eat well] [on purpose i love you on purpose] [whatever our souls are made of his and mine are the same] [i am half agony half hope] [you have bewitched me body and soul and i love love love you] [he is half of my soul as the poets say] [i'm sick of people saying that love is all a woman is fit for but i'm so lonely] [i love you most ardently] [let me stay tender hearted despite despite despite] [someone has to leave first this is a very old story there is no other version of this story] [mostly i want to be kind] [tell me how all this and love too will ruin us] [you said i killed you haunt me then] [someone somewhere can you understand me a little love me a little] [i will love you as misfortune loves orphans as fire loves innocence and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong] [sorry about the blood in your mouth i wish it was mine] [who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me] can we kiss now

'spit' being the past tense of 'spit' doesn't sit right with me.

inside you are two wolves. one is diet coke heart-shaped sunglasses vintage diners red nail polish lollipops soft ice-cream knee-high socks lipstick stains girl blogger. the other is black coffee rainy weather turtlenecks secret history notes app poetry hand-held vhs camera autumn cable-knit sweaters tote bag thrift stores chunky rings.

am i more productive at nighttime or am i so choked with responsibility and duty during the day that my free time is now only ever available to me when in exchange for a sacrifice of tomorrow's wellbeing? (because apparently revenge nighttime procrastination is an actual thing??)