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My love of true crime and fictional crime has made me distrust everyone.
As I pass by even the most *normal* looking people, I think to myself “who knows what kind of skeletons you’ve got hiding in your closet, or web history.” 🧐
current life status: tried to gargle salt water to soothe my tonsillitis, but instead gagged horribly and puked into my bathroom sink in a span of 3 short seconds.
When your life is currently:
Marry Me a Little
You can be my best friend, I can be your right arm. We'll go through a fight or two-- No harm, no harm. We'll look not too deep, We'll go not too far. We won't have to give up a thing, We'll stay who we are.
But you are waiting grown up into:
Being Alive
Someone you have to let in Someone whose feelings you spare Someone who, like it or not Will want you to share a little, a lot of being alive Make me alive, make me confused Mock me with praise, let me be used Vary my days, but alone is alone, not alive!
Current Life Status:
*binges Riverdale* Eats, breathes, lives Riverdale
Current Life Status:
Bon Iver for daysssss
You know you’ve reached a certain level of adulting when all you listen to is NPR in the car and True Crime Podcasts everywhere else. Is this what the rest of my 20’s is going to be like?
I am way too old to be crying in bathroom stalls.