Why do I have this sudden urge to create a sideblog for my sims?
me: man i hate going to class so much
me after laying in bed for two days, alone with my thoughts: please god let me go to lecture
Sorry this is the firsy thing I thought of when Emmanuel appeared… Tell me I’m not the first one who thought of this…
Credits Rooster Teeth And Cartoon Network
everything is so overwhelming and for once i don’t mean this in a negative way
I was listening to For You and you have Liam singing:
Like…that’s more or less 2 years and a half.
And Rita is singing “I’ll be yours for a thousand lives”. They are clearly not on the same page.
You can tell in so many of my regular tumblr posts that my brain will fuckin jump ship from one possible phrasing to another, resulting in an unholy nonsense of a sentence
I dont have much of a point but i sometimes look back at posts where i didnt even notice the brain-jump moments and think “what the fuck you wrote long fanfics how does this happen.”
Turns out there’s more chapters in this game than I thought there was which is… Good? I mean, I’m glad it’s longer than I initially thought because yay! More content, but also lol I maybe shouldn’t have tried to do that thing where I gun it towards the end when I was actually only like halfway through it when I started today. Aaaaanyway, my hand hurts and I have listened to soooooo much Japanese today. On a definitely related note, both Kiryu and Majima could read me the phone book and that… Well that’d be just fine.
Gotta type out a dream I just had before I forget it. I’m hanging out with Thomas, Sleep (hahaha that Remy binge right before bed must have gotten into my subconscious) and one other person, probably Kenny because he was in the short video also.
We’re all drinking - or rather, they are and I’m not, because I’m sort of allergic to alcohol. (It’s actually not an allergy but more like Asian glow with terrible other side effects in addition to getting a red face, and that’s after only like two sips so I’m not even tipsy, I just feel like death, but I digress)
They’re drinking straight vodka, without anything to mix into it, or even a chaser.
Then they start moving onto frozen drinks, and Thomas dumps one all over my head because he thinks that would be just hilarious
I act pissed off - I’m not…maybe just mildly annoyed because COLD but it was kinda funny I guess - and the 3 of them are dying laughing as I sit there with ice dripping down my face
I sloooowly reach my hands up and gather some slush
Then flick it into Thomas’ face and he blinks in surprise
The other two laugh harder so I do it to them too
And then I scowl at all 3 of them and I’m like “REALLY? You went there??” and then…omg
They go silent and immediately all turn around and bend down into child’s pose (the yoga pose) with their butts facing me
And I’m like “yeah you guys, not so funny now, is it?” As I wind my arm up, about to smack their butts, HARD. Sleep is first, on my left, Thomas is in the middle, and Kenny or whoever it was is on the right. I turn to Remy first and pull my hand back
And then I woke up
i’m eating peanut butter out of the jar. i don’t even like peanut butter..,
I just want everyone to know that a couple nights ago I had a dream that involved some memory hologram, and somebody’s memories involved Keith and Lance back at the Garrison actually being friends and one memory had Keith and Lance aaaaaaaalmost kissing on the lips (they were kissing each other’s cheeks), and this was somehow an episode of Voltron that I was watching and I was thinking “lol, show this to everyone who keeps saying Klance is dead.”
(there was some flimsy dream-explanation for why they later acted like they didn’t really know each other, but fuck if I remember what it was)
(also my dream decided that outer space would break my watch, and I made some joke about how it could survive 330 feet underwater but not anywhere in space, but nobody laughed :( )
I know it’s purely psychological that I can’t type if I can’t see the keyboard (as I don’t even look at the keys when I’m typing) but that doesn’t change that if it’s too dark to see them everything I type will be like ‘efwfwf wewhbvty’
I had a dream the other night that one of my newer followers apparently had a serious change of heart and sent me a message saying they were unfollowing me because [insert regular anti whining] here.
Does your core at least taste good? Hope you like vore. Lmao
“Hey here’s an idea - how about the next time you ever approach me with that ‘vore’ shit, I vaporize you where you stand. Sound like a good trade? Yeah? Cool! I like that idea too!”
Me: Ok, I need to do homework Brain: I want to write!!😄 Me: maybe lat… Brain:WRITE Me:but.. Brain: WRITE WRITE WRITE WRITE WRITE WRITE WRITE WRITE WRITE!!!!!!!!
Hi Blue, hope you have a lovely day today!!
hey darling! thank you so much!! have an amazing day too xx
If you ever talk to me, irl or online, you may experience two distinct things
1. Mostly in spoken conversation, I go nonverbal. I am listening, I am paying attention and understand what you say, I just don’t answer anymore. I nod or shake my head, try to convey emotions through my face or glances. Sometimes vague habd gestures. It doesn’t mean I lost interest or that you aren’t worthy of an answer. It just means my body decided not to be friends with me anymore and that talking is just not possible at the moment.
2. In written conversation, I answer like, 2 hours later. Sure, it could mean I didn’t see your message or didn’t have time to answer. But mostly it means that I’ve been staring at your text (especially if it’s a long one), trying to make my brain understand and process it in its entirety and come up with an answer. It doesn’t happen too often anymore, but it does, and if it happens I try to at least send a “hey, I read your message, but I’m struggling to answer” or “could you break this up for me to understand better?” message.
I never minded your large
—er than life personality
until you started coming
over, splaining yourself
in the way big ass egos do
when they lose sight of
the intimate thing called
us—rather, what we used
to call relationship
now, your big ass just sits
there on my couch,
occasionally eating my
food, among other things,
and I let you, until you
splained so hard I heard
a pop, and after, the couch
was lopsided—your big ass
broke a spring, or two
❝ heather! heather- heather, we
need to go shopping, like, pronto- ❞
She giggles, catching up to the Red Queen of Westerburg,
clutching her purse to her chest.
❝ -and i can’t go on my own, i need a second opinion,
and you’re the only person i trust, because you’re
just so fashionable and great- ❞
She continues to gush, laying it on thick, hoping that the compliments
would be enough to soften her at least slightly to the idea.
❝ -so like… when would you be
free? i’d owe you big time! ❞