Where the fuck am I supposed to find peonies at this time? Their flowering season has already passed.
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The cats around the place I work are cute, but scare really easily. Sad.
Worse on Friday.
Sleep. The act of pretending to be asleep, until you really are.
There's a novel I'm reading, and the author writes scenes of torture without a TW, but censors the word piss.
28°С.
Fuck.
Took ill on Thursday.
Man I'm hungry...
Married on Wednesday.
Sometimes, I wish I could turn off my brain and just exist for an hour or two.
Christined on Thesday.
Solomon Grundy,
Born on a Monday.
Dark humor/sarcasm/satyr. In a positive way-praise.
Sometimes, Botty legitly feels like that
(Rest in peace kitty, you were beloved by your owners ?)
I think my brain reached the limit of written information for the moment. The words turn to mush inside my head. -
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