Write whats on your mind

write whats on your mind

i should have another bowl of oats

>tfw you let deleuze finger your ass to deconstruct his heteronormativity but you forget he has howard hughes fingernails

Youre fucking supposed to write with your whole arm and not with your fucking fingers?

No wonder my handwriting has been shit my whole life.

I've been praying the Rosary every day for about a week now, inspired by Our Lady of Fatima. I actually really enjoy it, and it only takes about fifteen minutes.

I used to be really edgy about my Catholic faith. But I also have been warming up to it recently. Bless you user.

I'm becoming very suspicious of capitalism

I've often imagined scenarios where I'd be forced to kill one of my closest friends: how I would do it, a plausible situation, the mental rigors I'd have to go through, etc... as though a conscious preparation for something bound to never happen. I'm not a sociopath, nor am I psychotically inclined. I never find these pleasant, though I don't depress myself over them either. I, in fact, feel a great deal of loyalty and love towards my friends.

Why am I having these thoughts, Veeky Forums? You're the only board I trust to have the mental fortitude to answer somewhat coherently.

The crisp summer air scruffs against the abrasive aveolies in my lungs while mosquitoes leach at my ankles and pit of my elbow. My mom has just kicked me out the car after getting into a heated discussion about her and dad's divorce, and, of all straight, fated course, my mom ran her fuse into its powder keg leaving me no choice but to high tail it out of there. As she peels off into the distance, I stand unresolved and crooked, drawn back by the metaphorical blow to the stomach as it grows for a meal. My suitcase stands beside me with its faulty pull handle latch and my Swiss backpack weighs my shoulders to the asphalt under the weight of my laptop and various books, one of which is Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon. Oh how I wish a missile were headed my way to relieve me of being marooned at this foresaken, rundown Valaro. I find a spot between two wall side flood lights to escape the bugs and gnats devouring my body's soul source and pry open the book at around page 139.

Wolf Children is a cute film.