"This app! Does things! Amazing things! Download this app! Humanity helped! Super important! Everyone should have this! Signal boost!"

> I don’t have a phone that does apps let alone Internet
> Pretty sure lots of people don’t

but no no please keep going

I wonder often what I would do if you ever came back.

I guess it might be one of those things where you don’t know until it happens.

But I almost feel like… I wouldn’t be able to do anything. I love you so much, you mean the world to me, and every night I cry how you’re missing. But if you came back, after it all, I couldn’t do it.

I don’t want to believe I don’t trust you. I don’t want to believe you’ve lost my faith.

But I couldn’t do it. I can’t take the heartache. And I can’t take being afraid around you all the time, being afraid I’ll never be good enough, being afraid I’ll always annoy you, piss you off, afraid I’ll eventually drive you away once again.

Afraid of the space between us. Terrified of it.

If you came back, I might break down crying.

Am I Asexual or Just Miserable and Self Hating: A Novel on Confusion by Me

Hey just remember angels are asexual.

One of my favourite classes that I’ve ever had was my Understanding Art class.

It made me realize how 95% of deviantART users are utter elitist shitlords who can’t objectively look at something and believe it’s art and may mean something or have value to someone even if they personally don’t like it or it’s not perfect.

I had to write a three page critique of a high art painting that I couldn’t stand but I didn’t stomp my feet about how much it was shit and worthless.

I mean, I know I shouldn’t expect a lot from average Internet users but come fucking on.

I went to find Subservient Chicken and it’s basically gone.

They redid the whole thing and now the site just shows some junk video about remaking the mascot into something new.

Yeah it’s old as hell but SC was always good for late night laughs and I was gonna link it because if you never played it you haven’t lived. But now you can’t. I’m sorry.

tbh I don’t think it’s that funny when someone asks about what an acronym means and the totally cool and smooth user they asked replies with something random/stupid/some inside joke

There’s a huge fucking spider in my mail box and I haven’t gotten my mail in days because of it.

I don’t want to kill her because, well, she’s outside. That’s where she belongs. Why should I kill her for being where she’s supposed to be?

But ugh.

Hey remember some time ago when people were debating with me about whether “whore” was reclaimable by all women or only sex workers (assumedly only women ones)?

I just realized something a while ago.

Men aren’t considered suspicious if they dress “sexily” and stand alone or walk alone on the street. They’re not stopped by police.

Men aren’t considered suspicious if they talk to stopped cars at night.

Men having condoms on their person isn’t a reason to arrest them.

Yet women are subject to this shit whether they actually are sex workers or not. So many women are being taken in that sex activists fear an outbreak of sexual health issues because women are afraid to take control in their sexual health because cops may grab them and accuse them of indecency.

Hell, even obvious pimps, who are technically sex workers, aren’t checked out as much as women, who may or may not be sex workers.

And, to be frank, the main reason sex work is seen as wrong and sinful, is because of myths of sexual purity which primarily affect women, almost only affecting women.

Just some food for thought.

Wish mom would stop yelling at me for not wanting to eat certain foods sometimes.

"Food is food, if you’re hungry you eat it."

She just doesn’t get it, though. I literally can’t eat food I don’t want. I puke it up. Even the smell of it can make me sick. If I do manage to keep it down, I’ll be fighting it for at least an hour or two.

I don’t know why I’m this way. It’s only gotten worse as I’ve grown older. I used to be able to force myself to swallow it with a struggle but without feeling sick, but now I can’t at all.

Mom just thinks I’m bratty and lazy.