I gave you a clean slate, and you've already fucked it up.
I'm going to bed.
They don't tell us the truth about grief. So how are we supposed to deal with it?
This is how *I* experience being fat. Feel free to leave any thoughts/reactions in the comments. I hope this post starts a conversation.
When you hear the word "sex," what do you think of?
Human nature strikes again.
Why'd you choose your parents?
White supremacy hurts.
"Everyone who smiles in your face ain't your friend."
"If I see you and I don't speak, that means I don't fuck with you."