crowley in every episode [22/34]: 8x21, the great escapist
we’ve been here before, haven’t we? let’s see who blinks first
Throwing it back to last summer when this baby pygmy loris melted hearts.
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Depression is stupid and not a thing that makes me a better writer. One time I went a whole year without writing and I stayed in bed and drank. Fuck your Bukowskisms. I want sunlight and love and running down some street I’ve never been on where it’s warm and cool at the same time and I’m smiling. I want nothing to ever be bad again- and I don’t mean that I want a life free of conflict, I mean that I want a life free of meaningless conflict. Not being able to will oneself to take a shower or leave the house is meaningless. There is nothing to be gained, no lesson to be learned from that kind of life. My heart is stale, my prose is stale. Give me fire if you want to hurt me. Give me something I can taste. There’s nothing romantic or mysterious about where I am. There’s nothing here worth holding onto.
peace and quiet and open air,
wait for us, somewhere
HOW TO COOK THE CORRECT AMOUNT OF PASTA:
1. Pour out how much you think you need.
me in november:
ugh christmas decorations shouldn't be up this early the holiday isn't for another two months come the fuck on
me in september:
SPOOKY SCARY SKELETONS