I mean what
what do I
Just gotta stop thinking about some things, ya know? But then I end up getting myself in some semi-abusive emotional shitpile and bawwwing at anyone and everyone I see/talk to because I still don’t know what the fuck to do.
I’m either desperate, masochistic, or an absolute fucking idiot. Probably all of the above.
Solution: Be happy, fucker. Muuuuuuch easier said than done. Also don’t worry. And don’t quote that song.
- Me: Oh wait...which one of us is Tyler Durden?
- Chloe: Depends. Which one of us gets to have sex with Marla Singer?
- Me: Goddamnit Chloe.
- Chloe: So I guess that would be me then.
- Me: Oh wait, that means I have to have insomnia and you don't exist.
- Chloe: I'm still having sex
and that is because I never fucking learn
WELL HERE GOES