Seriously, #where do #thesepeople find me #lmao #whoareyoueven #creepyfbfriendrequests
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Seriously, #where do #thesepeople find me #lmao #whoareyoueven #creepyfbfriendrequests
When the revolution is here. Now. Tapuwa #whoareyoueven? #groundingsessions #intersectionality #tagores #strongbythehandsoftheallmighty
NEWSFLASH, WORLD! ANOTHER HIPSTER STARTS A BLOG.
It hurts to write the word ‘hipster.’ Am I a hipster? Wide-rimmed glasses. Employed at coffee shop. Resides in Echo Park. Occasional mustache. Sure looks, smells, and quacks like a Miranda July-reading duck. I’ve perused a lot of blogs – many good, but mostly mediocre – and I have to say, the medium has won me over. I find forms of social media to be too short. My brain “literally can’t” with Twitter. It does not compute. I think blogging will prove more conducive to the way I think, how I reflect on life, and how I’d like to share my experiences. I just have a lot of thoughts, OKAY? I have made it to the big 2-5 and life in Los Angeles has been nothing short of interesting. I’m not gonna lie, (I hate when people say “I’m not gonna lie.” It implies that they’re liars. Whatever.) LA has had its bitchfits with me. From awful jobs, awful dates, awful people, to the timesuck that is traffic, often paired with the wild goose chase of finding parking, this city has made it on my shitlist. I’ve been in the depths of postgrad despair. I’ve cried and cried and asked the great void in the universe what I should be doing at this time of my life, with no fucking response. Had my bouts of researching grad programs like crazy merely because “real life” is hard. I’ve made bad choices, then made some more. I looked to dating to distract me from my lack of determination. I looked to drinking/drugs to numb my uncertainty. I became so emotionally involved with the problems of my friends in order to feel better about myself, attempting to mask the emptiness I felt. I almost packed up and moved to Portland, so ready to say fuck it all to this godforsaken city. Then 2014 came around and something clicked. I realized that this was the year I’d officially officially be in my mid-twenties, and life seemed shorter than it ever had seemed in the past. News to me (and maybe you, if you’re stupid too), it only gets shorter from here on out. So I decided to DO ME. Ever since I could remember I wanted to act. I went to school for it, found such a home in the theater, and I suddenly realized my development in my craft had come to a complete halt due to my hyperactive self-doubt. I lost my hustle. It was like someone had given my insecurities 10 lines of coke each and free reign to trash my thought-life. So, due in part to the encouragement of close friends, I decided to be a fucking actor. Does Los Angeles need another actor? No. Does the internet need another blogger? Definitely not. Does the world need more happy, fulfilled, truly alive people? Yes. This city is already chock full o the walking dead. So I’m gonna live.
Prada Chanel Dior Tiffany #whoareyoueven #meijishrine
I keep getting used by the people I care about. Over and over and over and over. It's always the same. "I'd never hurt you." "You deserve so much better." "I'll always be here for you." "I would never judge you." FUCKING BULLSHIT. I HATE YOU ALL. SUCK MY DICK YOU FILTHY DIRT BAGS. PLEASE DIE. YOU'RE A POOR EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING. THANK YOU :)
Please stop pretending to be someone you're not.
Your new haircut looks really cute.
dsafewqkrewq thank