I don’t want to accept a bleak and fixed future like that for myself, especially since it’s selfish to think that way at a time like this, but the thought haunts me. I can’t let go of it.

(As a quick PSA, please don’t be as casual as me about passing out, hahaha, please seek actual medical attention if it happens to you. I’m just weird about it because I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.)

Me, the worst food item I ever “stole” was someone’s half-eaten abandoned French fries at a bowling alley. Mom was laughing too hard at me to punish me for that, and dad just sighed and bought me my own fries.

And even into adulthood she hated the taste of bazooka bubblegum because it reminded her of crying under the bamboo floor trying to chew like forty pieces at once to avoid getting caught.