[summerswages]

the inside story . . .

[kosmogrl]

what doesn’t kill me leaves a pit in my stomach that never goes away

[3000s]

ocd will have me thinking i cant text "here now if you wanna head over" because i sound like blowjob mario with a walkie talkie

[tomhoppusdelonge]

I should probably have a good scream. I feel like I’m a little overdue a blood curdling throat ripping yell

[circlusion]

[yviisxo]

rest in peace to this diva

[97642]

[flutterbvnny]

i get so confused when social interactions r still hard for me like u mean i studied and observed for nothing??? ok sounds fake

[killingchivalry]

Wellbutrin made my anxiety spike really bad. I stopped it and I feel better. Tom said the thing I was worried about was really funny… but idk. I’m really dumb.

[trying-trying2lyk]

i love writing out numbers and then putting them in parentheses like "one (1)" even when i dont need to i think its funny

[justatiredlittlesnail]

[so-many-ocs]

immediately after an interaction: i have GOT to get more normal oh god i need to get more normal immediately i have to get more normal or they're going to hunt me down they're going to hunt me down and flay me for sport

during an interaction: and why not put a little spin on it? why not add some conversational zest?

[sexygrammaticalerrors]

[spaghettiwoman46]

Ugh they are always doing this

[keepcalmandcarriefischer]

Little freaks

[anxeious]

[dogpuppy]

[fullmetalfisting]

This guy who lives in Siberia did an AMA on Reddit and he’s honestly hilarious

[sparrowlucero]

its kind of distressing how you can tell a lot of people see popular indie artists and writers and such as like "a Celebrity but one which i stand a half decent chance of bullying to death"

[wordcubed]

[poetics-tracy]

June is liminal, a question

suspended

in humid air. I cannot

give words to this,

but I am answered

by fireflies, gently

rising and falling

above the grass.

June days are bright

and hot, but the brightness

that means something

happens at twilight.

I listen

to a cicada chorus,

and I think: how different

summers have become, how

different I have become,

standing on my porch

in tears because I thought

fireflies were gone,

and yet, here

they are, and here I am,

and we are all somehow

alive together.

I hear my neighbors living:

squeaking porch swings,

calling out, closing doors,

and I am oddly satisfied

with unworded questions

and unworded answers.

I need nothing else

from this moment.

I breathe, and the air

tastes like recently bloomed

flowers and mowed grass.

Everything is enough.