can someone pay me to write stupid, niche, trite things on various forms of internet
i'd rather be a tree in lord of the rings than a person in real life
contrived and deleted over a dozen tweets over the past two days in an attempt at employing faux pas spelled as faux paws to describe my cat
what's more american than loneliness
call me mister faux paw -my cat
livetweeting being alone in my room
HEY HEY HEY ITS CRIPPLINGGGG DEPRESSION
seems harder to find bitches on goodreads than it really should be..
odds my professor hates his life more than i hate mine seem high #jackpot
people who describe themselves as quirky, the fuck is that
i said what are you doing grandma, she said "im contemplating my navel"
just smiled at a baby who looked at me and vomited
cardigan weather it's #cardiganweather everybody celebrate #cardiganweather and wear your #cardigans in this #weather #imdead
*walks up to friends* hey guys! ... oh yesterday? well let's see; i stood in parts of my room, tried to make fried ice-cream and cried twice
i want to announce to a group of people after much frustration "i guess what i'm trying to say is none of you bitches know me"
the day steve jobs died my poop was statue-of-liberty green
feeling pretty jimmy chen
stopped myself from doodling "teenage butt syndrome" in bubble letters on my political science notes during lecture on anarchism & godwin
i literally have never owned a dog
when i die can someone transcribe my tweets into a book w. a person shrugging shoulders on the cover, title: it was probably for the best
"i am alone" vs "i am single" (you say tomato, i say fall in love with me)
babies cry because they are alive and that is the saddest thing to be
a customer came up to me today and said "whats wrong" while i was thinking about my okcupid profile