I wish I were born a tyrannosaurus rex or something so I would have a valid excuse for just stomping on people and ripping things to shreds and chomping on everything.
was my grandmothers 78th birthday. I asked her what her favorite age was and she couldn’t tell me. I’m so thankful that she’s crammed so much into her years and is as happy as she was 50 years ago.
I’m fucking tired. I need a break.
I’m discovering new things out about myself every single day. How can I expect anyone to get me when my own mind is such a mess that I sometimes can’t recognize myself? Some days, I feel terrified.
I’m sorry to question your wisdom but my faith has been wavering. Won’t you show me a sign and let me know that you’re listening?