Favella Toboggan

I fantasise about you because I fancy who you're not.

I don't know what I've done. Thought crime, presumably.

Time machines that only travel forward.

Why.

I fell easy so never pushed myself and that's fine because where does pushing ever get you.

Why am I staying alive for these people when they make me wish for death

I can't live like this.

Drink is killing me and keeping me alive.

there's nothing of me left

Sleasis and Sluthead

To the tune of Baby Shark: fuck this shit

A measure of ease versus popularity. A measure of impulse versus requirement for premeditation. No more than than two boxes of paracetamol versus a gun in the drawer.

I think we've lost. Maybe we've lost.

For better or worse, all there is is people.

all this ICE stuff is just to distract you from trannies making drama

The world is a terrifying and awful place and if you can extract any net joy from it, you've beaten the odds. Do the thing.

Sir, a woman banging you is like a dog's walking on his hind legs. It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all.

Always a dull moment.

Fucking ahhhhhhh.

Home.

I lost who I was so fucking long ago that I don't even remember who that person might've been.

The secret is to be handsome or charismatic, then know how to walk away.

Love.

I'm having a lovely time thanks for asking.

You have to wonder sometimes what's worth it.

Every day is a safari through generalised anxiety disorder by proxy.

Sorry I seem down today. It's just that I'm feeling a little bit terrorised by your angst and snap irritability, the relentlessness of your tense negativity, and your presumption that instead of saying any of this I have to apologise for seeming down today.

This is worse.

I hope he's fucking dead the cunt.