And who hasn’t gone through some sort of self-loathing? You’ve got to bang yourself around a bit to know yourself.
Last night I decided that the world needs more of my knowledge. I live and thrive on making mistakes; what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? However, suffice it to say that not everyone has my… endurance. In other words, not everyone wants to be quite as much as a dumb fuck which, really, is understandable. To this end, I decided something very important last night:
Protip #1: “Maggie’s Protips” are now a thing.
Protip #2: Don’t try to pack for a trip stoned.
Protip #3: Don’t make friends with schizophrenics. (This rule only applies if you want to live a normal, happy life and not think about the destruction of an otherwise happy existence that mental illness can bring. But really, if you want that, fuck you.)
Protip #4: Never go to Cleveland.
More to come, I promise. I know you all want more of my shitty, though well-researched advice.
imagine a book that told the story of two enemies stuck side by side up to their necks in sand of mud or something. what would they talk about? imagine the possibilities…
What would it be like to realize that it was your worst enemy who would hear your last words? be the receptacle of your near death confessions?
tragedy. sunset. comes from revenge, something you cannot change, is inevitable. but you can see yourself barelling toward it.
Wonka quote: We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams.
you’re beautiful, so you can pull off any look, but i have to have my own look cause otherwise I’ll look retarded.
Manners and Customs of Mankind by Hammerton