when I need to celebrate I just cut up some toast, cook up some sugar water and eat that shit like fondue. its going to put me in an early grave, esp w/ my family history of diabetes but who even actually cares, it tastes so good
My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌
