I wish the man who wronged me a very 1997 Fleetwood Mac live performance of Silver Springs

I think some folks believe if they get louder and more granular about their politics and critiques, it’ll exonerate them for never having organized, contributed to their communities, volunteered, or struck any actual fear into the hearts of the literal villains we are collectively up against.

Spent this bitter and bright January day laying on the floor alone in my apartment listening to Nebraska (the album, not just the title track) on repeat.

The holidays are over, I’m still unemployed and I’m turning 30 this year.

blast with white smoke: a new pope has been chosen

21. A college senior. Self-styled bangs, oversized flannel, combat boots just out of frame. Bright eyes still hopeful for the future. Determined to enter adulthood treating everyone with unflinching kindness.

Telepathically conveying to the pretty femme in an oversized coat, combat boots & self-styled bangs who smiled sweetly when I held the door of the coffee shop in my college town that I used to be like them, too.

It’s romantic, isn’t it, to live your big little life on your own for the first time?

I wish the man who wronged me a very 1997 Fleetwood Mac live performance of Silver Springs

Yeah I’m not answering that

*extremely Harry Chapin voice*
🎶 “Yessss, we have no bananaaaas….”

A second antidepressant has hit the towers

Goon me once, shame on you. Goon me twice….. won’t get gooned again

An important piece of my lore: the singular time I got detention was in middle school when I drew the Lorax standing on a stump saying “posters kill trees” and submitted it for English class (the assignment was to create a poster for the school’s Environmental Expo but there were 40 of us so)

Get you a friend who will wash pepper spray out of your eyes AND send you a BlueSky invite ❤️❤️ @escapeheartist.bsky.social