dyou ever just hate the fandom you’re in so much like just every corner of it like your Favorite thing ever has the shittiest people and it makes you feel like you’re the only good fan the one true fan

There’s not a day goes by I don’t feel regret. Not because I’m in here, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then: a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense to him, tell him the way things are. But I can’t. That kid’s long gone and this old man is all that’s left. I got to live with that. Rehabilitated? It’s just a bullshit word. So you go on and stamp your form, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don’t give a shit.

Ok so before you scroll past this thinking I’m just another annoying girl drinking Starbucks, hear me out. While everyone knows that frappuccinos are pretty magical, this one happens to be extra special. That’s because it’s the first real frappuccino that I’ve had in years. No “light version”, no “hold the syrup and whipped cream”. And let me tell you something: it was fucking delicious. Yes, it was scary. Yes, I was worried. This has been a huge fear food for me for awhile— and it feels amazing to have finally beat it. Another win for me, another ass-kicking for the eating disorder. 

Victory has never tasted so good.

you know how straight white popular boys at high school just live to attempt to make all girls who don’t fancy them uncomfortable

now that i’m an adult i can really appreciate how fucking bad they are at it

so a month or so ago i’m walking my nineteen year old self back from the shop with my twenty year old housemate, and this group of teenage boys passes us in the opposite direction. they attempted to make a snide comment. 

the comment in question? nice bread *sneer*



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i’m convulsing