Kiana Khansmith
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Discoholic šŖ©
trying on a metaphor
Keni
Love Begins
DEAR READER
todays bird
YOU ARE THE REASON
Stranger Things
PR's Tumblrdome
Misplaced Lens Cap
Three Goblin Art
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
@theartofmadeline
ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation
ā
Monterey Bay Aquarium
JVL
oozey mess
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Serbia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Thailand
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from Germany
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Portugal
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@bluehollandaise
Shane. He/him. 17 years old. Asian.
This is my secret corner ā a side/kin blog for my personal anecdotes.
This is not a roleplay account.
Donāt follow me if youāre going to be bigoted + Iām also not too comfortable with doubles.
TAGS:
# shane speaks ā miscellaneous rambles, random thoughts
(Lying) I actually have so much ahead of me.
they should invent a body that feels normal to be inside of
the thing about phone in bed is that it's so awesome. almost makes you feel like betraying & destroying yourself for nothing isn't all so bad
Had another dream about him the other day. Iāve been dreaming a lot these days.
Anyway, the feeling of his mouth felt so real against mine. When I woke up, I could hardly believe that he hadnāt actually been there to kiss me.
Iāve been spending most of my hours asleep, and still I donāt know what Iām looking for. But I guess itās nice to dream of something like that every once in a while.
sent this message to my coworker today and he sent me this screenshot with microsoft teams's suggested replies... incredible 10/10 no notes.
I feel like I talk way too much for my own good sometimes. Afterwards, I overthink about what I said, even though, rationally speaking, itās not that deep and it never is. Itās a regular conversation, Iām sure they wonāt read into it and think that Iām weird. But what if they do? Realistically, they wouldnāt. But what if...
I keep embarrassing myself. The cycle continues.
My silly little birthday curse apparently transcends even my own real birthday.
Had to take a break from any hockey-related media after the team I was rooting for got eliminated from the playoffs.
I feel weird and like an impostor over my lack of kin memories. Itās like, I know who I am, but thereās a lot that I donāt know about what makes me who I am. And I donāt really know how to talk about it. Thereās a lot that I donāt understand about everything.
supporting the shane as snoopy agenda
[ilya as woodstock], [ilya as woodstock pt. 2]
Posting on a Tumblr blog is actually a lot more freeing than I thought. Itās like having a diary that just about anyone could read but hardly anyone ever discovers.
I like the possibility of the presence of an audience. Itās like confessing your feelings to someone on a voice call when you donāt even know if theyāre still listening.
Last night, I dreamt that he and I were doomscrolling separately in the living room of a place I canāt remember the rest of the interior details of. I was lying on the couch with my phone in my right hand and he was seated on a chair (maybe arm?) right next to me, holding his phone in his left. The fingers on our free hands were casually woven together like it was the most natural thing in the world to maintain a continuous point of connection, even in the most mundane scenarios.
When I start talking about myself, itās hard to say when Iāll stop, but Iām definitely already feeling embarrassed by the second or third minute. I know I sound conceited, but I canāt help but substantiate every statement I make. I have to explain myself or Iāll die in my silence.
People probably look at me as Iām talking and wonder if the journal store blew up on the way here while they nod in acknowledgement.
When I start talking about myself, itās hard to say when Iāll stop, but Iām definitely already feeling embarrassed by the second or third minute. I know I sound conceited, but I canāt help but substantiate every statement I make. I have to explain myself or Iāll die in my silence.
I feel like I never get my coffee right. I either donāt put enough sugar or I pour too much water and the flavour becomes too diluted to even be considered coffee. I drink it anyway, of course.
No, wait, I think I finally made it right for once. I just had to let it sit for a bit so I could get the most out of the flavour that I wanted to achieve.
