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Guys, this scene was written in the mid 90s.

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Me? Canceled.

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I sincerely hope that this video of an otter eating lettuce brings peace & joy to your life

twestt

Stress level : Kim K when she lost her diamond earring in the ocean

#there's people that are dying

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Bye

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im screaming shsksxsjsnsgsn

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STOP ASKSLALS

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all the world’s witches didn’t die for you to have shit eyeliner on halloween

#tumblrween

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When you feeling every part of a song

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bruh

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Y IS THIS ME

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cutupmymothersweddingdress

spinsterlog

GREATEST LOVE STORY OF ALL TIME

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STILL RELEVANT

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Commute Journal #1

There are a lot of busy looking people commuting on Caltrain. They are always composing e-mails, fingers determined and focused. Or they are reading books, and newspapers, and smartphones, and laptop screens. Reading, never skimming. They are wearing glasses and stern expressions of can-do and yes ma'am. They get on the train eagerly, they get off the train eagerly. They have all their items: briefcases, extra coats, lunch bags and helmets. They never forget anything. They never slow down. They are always on top of it.

I’ve never considered myself a busy person. Life keeps me busy, yes, but I am not a busy person. Truly I am a lazy person, a person of naps and overdue books. My to-do lists are long and meandering, sitting somewhere, waiting to be done. My life is puddles of light. My life is a slow jog. I’m not a busy commuter. My laptop is open, but my inbox is closed. I am not reading anything, and you can bet I’ve already dropped something under the seat. I’m probably eating, or looking out the window.

It’s hard for me to be around all of them everyday– those organized, on top of it all people. They make me feel small and slow and broken. It’s not their fault, they don’t mean to make anyone feel bad like that. They’re just excelling, and getting ahead for their own betterment. Heck- They’re just making good use of their time.

Not me. I am eating time. I am rubbing into my skin and holding it to my eyes. I am savoring every languid second and letting everything else slop off the plate. I taking seconds, thirds, fourths– ignoring the need to stop, refocus and get back to work.