Happy times are yellowing before time. Is it autumn yet?

Sitting between hope and despair. Both speak quietly. Neither is listening to the other. I can help with that.

Parents will always tell you some cousin of a distant acquaintance died, just to remind you that happiness is fleeting.

Somehow the overtures of impulse land you at the coda of wisdom.

Fuck you. I'm hilarious,babycheeks. When I'm not saddened by every fucking thing..

I grow pumpkins the old fashioned way by devouring the goopy seeds from the hollowed out jack-o-lanterns in the fall and letting them grow organically inside me until they burst forth Chestburster style the next fall.

leaving this hellscape behind for a life in Antartica where I will worship the golden penguin

If only the truth was as feral as a lie.

Why were the leaves arguing with the trees? They had a falling out

Neat. Yes. Opinion is art. A reflection. Borrowed light. Reflected and projected. Conjected?

Read this a few times and grasp it

whoever was naming rooms of a house gave up when they got to the living room

Here’s my happy on the table, place yours, and we’ll make three meals of it.

i fear the hummingbirds are plotting my demise after replacing their water with la croix

silent measures in the music of the night...

crikey we've got bleary with enlightenment

Just give me a moment with the sound of the rain.

We now return to your regularly scheduled deprogramming.

Clichés are rampant, like a virus epidemic. Guard skin with authenticity.

I don't correct people. I just aggressively sigh and say, "Well, that's one version of what happened."

My love language is closed for repairs.

Maybe we're all charging our phones against their will. Maybe they want to die.

going outside is the answer

Love, like silence, indecipherable in noise.

I think I’ve been quietly sabotaging my sense of reality, I whisper tenderly to my dragon.

I'm going to create my own personal social media called linked out.

I sometimes think I’m wise, but then remember I don’t fully understand anyone or anything and the illusion fades.

People are weird being sensitive about age, look, time is undefeated, you are probably older than your ancestors, with every year you did better against time. Age should come with pride, not shame.

Today a little girl told me my hair looked like princess hair, but my clothes don’t look like princess clothes and I can totally accept that half compliment.

They die as they live, as we all will as well.

the hard work is always most rewarding and most of the time it is the least squeaky wheel...

Can’t love a pebble to a pine. Or, vice versa.

I’m going to suggest that nobody “seize the day” today. Just let the day be.

there absolutely has to be a cap for the grace we extend

Me, to her: all of the other cyclists were quicker than me today. Her, to me: but did they sit and watch butterflies & dragonflies like you did? 🦋

dammit 😭

I imagine imagination as the moon, borrowing light from reality and turning it into something spectacular.

Abandon all tropes, ye who enter here

I don't often miss the nights where the music was just the trilling of insects and the barking of dogs

My two cents doesn’t amount to much change, so I keep it.

becoming the Master of my lunacy in my spare time

Thank you but I wasn't looking for a blessed day just not a messed day.

Life, in full colour, and I, its faint version.

The language of longing isn't in writing. It's a braille made of absent touching and skin

We are hallucinations, We reappear each day.

Living up to one's full potential all the time is a big ask. Dancing around it sometimes is enough.

No mud, no lotus babes. You can blossom into awakening, but not before you eat a whole lot of shit.

My closed eyes are pilgrims. My open eyes, hermits.

It turns out that I'm the Great American Novel.

I don’t dislike my voice I just don’t think it matches my personality that well