this mumbai heat is driving me horny
Mike Driver
RMH
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@cherrie-tomato
this mumbai heat is driving me horny
me and who
when we stay up all night gambling our sleep for a flight the next day, talking and talking with no awkward silence. dealing with our cards carelessly because i think our souls do know each other, calling it all in because conversations like this rarely occurs and i think the night might just be longer if we keep talking.
deciding one day that you want to build a life for yourself is so scary. like damn I really want to live… I’m new to this. where do I even begin
nerdy men this autistic men that. what about women. why can’t someone romanticise me for being vaguely offputting and poorly socialised
Cold War (2018)
Eden Robinson, “Writing Prompts for the Broken-hearted”
"i do not dream of labour" is a concept i fully understand and have said myself many times but it's also almost always like. well on some level you do. when you talk about your dream life and its travelling and a lovely house and great food on the table consistently. you dream about other peoples labour
"my mother watches her son like he is always
on the edge of choking. i watch my mother
watch her son and think, one day i will
love a boy like this. one day i will
light myself up to give him
one / clean / breath."
boys will be boys will be animals will be tender will be lost will be—, woke up no light by leila mottley
this poem haunts me everyday
Don’t make your younger self into your own dead wife.
Telling people not to use chatgpt is ableist. Some people arent eloquent enough and need it to convey what they want to say
not only are you stupid you are also a big fucking loser
last week i was peeling an orange in the kitchen and i didn’t mean for it to become anything.
a gentle reminder for myself (and maybe you)
Even when I was a little kid I wanted to have a beer and a cigarette on my porch some cool summer night
if I was a losing dog would you bet on me
I need someone to live with my mom for a week and tell me I'm not wrong, hold my hand and say "honey, you need antidepressant"
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath