Because if you had a choice between sex and Taco Bell, you would give Taco Bell some serious consideration.
They have an indeterminable expression — something unsettling and endearing that you can’t fully read. Something that makes your heart splinter.
Because someone just started playing Robyn and you’re getting how you always get when you listen to Robyn.
What killed me was I knew it could have been avoided. I knew that if I had just taken care of it alone without telling anyone I wouldn’t have had to deal with the social repercussions. And yet, some small vulnerable part of me reached out for help, for support.
If you interact in any way on Tumblr, you obviously need to have sex. But then again everyone on Tumblr just needs to have sex with each other. Just a massive internet orgy of political correctness and hipbones and love.
As awesome as it can be to think so, you can’t “win at life.” Not even if you’ve got tiger blood (??). No one’s keeping score and besides, we all know how it ends.
Just going to class (or not) and getting A’s in stuff will not do anything for you, I promise. You’re paying out the ass for this education, and if you really do want to be there, why not make it worth the time and money? Just do stuff. Seriously.
Well. I only hope that one day I will stop making stupid mistakes in favor of educated ones, and be able to plan things, and operate a rice cooker. I always burn rice when I boil it so I hope I figure out that last one pretty soon. But even when I have all those things down, I still want to stay young.
You’ll take blurry pictures together and put them up on the fridge, ask each other’s opinions about what to wear for a first date or a night out. You’ll meet each other’s girlfriends, boyfriends, parents and one night stands; you’ll see all these people and discuss them in the kitchen the next day.
Bright stretchy leopard-print shirts for $2.99 puncture the greyspace. Scattered kiosks with bored dark-skinned men offering cheap ear piercings and tongue rings topped with spiky neon koosh balls. Stick-legged girls with too-bronze foundation and meticulously straightened highlighted hair. Acne-scarred boys who smell like pot.