I had the most surprisingly terrifying experience last night. More shocking than reading Lady Chatterley’s Lover. After making a bet about someone else’s leftover pizza in the fridge, we opened up the suspected to go box only to be attacked by a mossy green and white fluffy ball of mystery!!!!! It was like having something jump out at you in a three-d movie. We let out shrieks and...
this scares me.and is something i feel i must... →
some of these cut to the core →
the a-bake-ning?! ehh?
man. I haven’t had anything good to post for a while. I have just become obsessed with all the cool things everyone else posts! so cool! Today I was thinking about how having a real job seems stressful and unnecessary and how it really would be nice to run a shop or bakery or something low key in a hip place like Seattle. Then I thought about Patrick Dempsey in ‘Lucky Number...
why is this still a problem? And not even in a romantic sense…like I am afraid to commit to a job, to an apartment, to plans to see a movie later. I think I have an unsatiable need for freedom that I cannot control and that wants to control me, but realistically cannot be fulfilled…at least for a little while. The plan I had as a 5-year-old to live in the forest, in a cabin, and hang...