I wish my friends would take random pictures of me when we hang out because I’m an arrogant prick and I want more pictures of myself that aren’t selfies.
Someone finally said it
i have a soft tummy and acne scars and my voice is not always low and sweet and my clothes are not always well-coordinated or even clean and my lipstick smears and my eyeliner runs and i still get overwhelmed and disappointed sometimes. but some nights i feel lovely and happy and as if, maybe, i’m getting the hang of this whole existence thing, and i’ve begun to realize i have time to get the hang of all this, and i don’t need to be perfect. i just need to be.
we joke about procrastination but nothing is worse than the nauseating feeling of having every intention of doing something but physically not being capable of doing it and then feeling like you want to throw up because the deadline is just getting closer and closer.