But see, that’s the thing — depression doesn’t care what life looks like on paper. It doesn’t give a damn about what you tell yourself about how great life is and could be. What it does is slams the sheer gravity of being down upon you when you least expect it, ties weights to your ankles and drowns you in a sea of anxiety, of “what if”s and “not good enough”s. And that is something that took me a long time to understand and an even longer time to talk about.
yo i ain’t saying she’s a gold-digger but she does carry a weird pan everywhere and keep mumbling stuff about “gold in them there hills” idk so yeah she is probably a gold digger
Did you know that you can drink lava? But only once
But i love hot pockets
excuse me mom but whoever smelt it dealt it so it is in fact YOU who’s doing the weed