single-handedly helping my generation beat the “puriteen” allegations. we’re not all massive virgins, I swear

receiving 2 minute long voicenotes about the caesar salad a man intends to make me on Wednesday 💚🥗

getting so drunk we add my ex boyfriend back to the group chat

april 23 - afraid, wearing a fedora, uncertain about how i got there and what was going to happen next
april 24 - unafraid, biceps flexed, wearing a way cooler hat, i know exactly where i am and what’s going to happen next

microdosing lobotomies by accidentally macrodosing my sertraline prescription

faking a medical emergency so my housemate can get off zoom and take a smoke break with me

mi hernia es su hernia, his and hersnia, hernia is is mynia

areola, a beautiful name for a baby girl

holding my phone to the sky, trying to find enough signal in the countryside to download his dick pics from the ether

sitting next to the most insufferable men imaginable on the 5 hour train to Cornwall. Keep saying words like “sustainable”, “Bali” and “kombucha”. And hatching master plans for the financing of their start-up.

same energy as my mum (divorced) and her “best friend” (never married) who celebrate Easter every year by getting pissed somewhere in Shropshire

went the queer rave and all they had in the confiscations basked was a vegan M&S sandwich. this generation is broken

second Easter in a row I’ve been ill. feels quite Jesus-adjacent. He died for our sins. I suffer for my own. Either way, we’ve both got intense long-weekend fomo 😔