Somedays, I wonder if my body has decided that specialists are like Pokemon and I "gotta catch em all". Fuckin exhausting.
To remember that I was loved in this life
I have a fantastic partner and I have no complaints about our relationship, but some days Paris Paloma’s Labour just gets stuck in my head while I’m raging at the world. It’s a general rage, not a pointed one, but it’s rage nonetheless.
every person who has ever worked retail for even a week has at least one song they can never hear again without being involuntarily transported back to the store
