I’ve always used this space to think. To space out my thoughts in words and punctuation so that I can see past the tangle of screaming and have clarity.

The inside of my head has been too ugly lately. Too sad.
Too many emotions edging on despair.

I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of regrets. I’m tired of being inside my own head.

I’m going to post happy little things for a while.


“I was in a department store and I was just in the lift, and the lift doors opened and this woman kind of looked at me and did a double take and just said ‘Khaleesi’.”

“I was in a department store and I was just in the lift, and the lift doors opened and this woman kind of looked at me and did a double take and just said ‘Khaleesi’.”

(Source: sansablaine, via aaronsjohnson)

It starts off okay and then gets weird.

Kind of like everything related to okcupid.

Go ahead, bitch about it.  That’ll make me change my mind.
I’m tempted to inform him I have no problem with guys his age. The hot fireman I’m currently sleeping with is 32.

Go ahead, bitch about it.  That’ll make me change my mind.

I’m tempted to inform him I have no problem with guys his age. The hot fireman I’m currently sleeping with is 32.

I almost hate listing Dr. Who on my profile because it’s just been an endless line of bad jokes and references. 

I almost hate listing Dr. Who on my profile because it’s just been an endless line of bad jokes and references. 

Dude has prettier hair than me. 

Dude has prettier hair than me. 

Whoa, there potential rapist. 
I’m going to go with No.

Whoa, there potential rapist. 

I’m going to go with No.

Fucking seriously?
No, don’t speak to me but feel free to take the occasional look at my okcupid profile. 

Fucking seriously?

No, don’t speak to me but feel free to take the occasional look at my okcupid profile. 

This is his entire profile.
There are no words.

This is his entire profile.

There are no words.