I don’t wanna get up at seven in the morning.

That moment when you open the two litre and wonder: did I open this earlier? Where’s that slightly difficult opening? Did someone else open this, in the store maybe? Did someone spit in this?

Should I drink it anyway? It’s the only soda in the house.

>_>;

Nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya nya 

8 minutes after you have to be in bed you don’t want to leave the internet.

Rest of the time you’re like “I’m sooo bored.”

Hng.

I miss winter fashion.

Makes me want to own a record player.

I’m that guy on the edge of class who talks now and again. I spout off snark and laziness, then I don’t say anything for a week and sit away from everyone. I’m strange, as in I’m not like the others. I could be. I could easily sit and be social. I don’t want to. Chattering feels like a time sink. It’s something to do with all that excess time to make things pleasant. I don’t like it. I don’t need to say anything to convey how I feel about things. I have an expressive face, and I know I show it in my posture. What I’m saying is: I think I’ve ostracized myself from people and I am now paranoid that people talk about me. People don’t have nice things to say. I get irritated. I’ve noticed people take the local standards and hold everyone to them. Hold everyone to their personal standards, too. It feels strange. So much of what seems to be important is hormones. I don’t want to play the games of noticing people. I don’t want to talk. It feels…redundant. Superfluous. It’s a string of stating what’s obvious and lying and judgment. And there is more tension than I’m comfortable with. 

I feel weird sitting at the edge of class, but I’m fat and don’t want to be noticed. Who wants to be looked at when they’re bloated? Also, my clothes don’t fit well anymore.

>_>;

tldr; Fuck tha police.

Dat syncopation

:T 

Tomorrow, if the children are feeling especially cooperative, we may find out their genders. Junk formation. Sex. 

People are getting paid to be pedophilic voyeurs here. I wonder how much they get paid.

Er. Not in a creepy way. Is that a real degree? Baby-junk looker? How do you put that on a resume? 

porcelainspine:

i reblog this too much

Got INTP, twice.

Supposed to be cool, rite?

I think it means I’m eccentric, mostly.

killerthe4th:

Eridan is sucha  fucking boss. >.>

Personally. I didn’t like Eridan, but I’ve been meaning to reread it. Might rewatch One piece instead, might take less time.