Number of times I’ve moved in the last nine years: 21 

Number of jobs I’ve had in the same time period: 12

Number of jobs I’ve abruptly walked out on: 3

Number of girlfriends I’ve had: 7

Number of girlfriends I’m still friends with: 1

Number of times I’ve attempted college: 3

Number of times I’ve dropped out: 3

Number of medications we’ve tried: 9

Number of times I’ve gone unmedicated abruptly: 4

Number of times that was a terrible idea: 4

Number of clues I have about what I’m doing: 0

weavemunchers:

imagine if your fridge did what you do to it everyday, every half hour goes to your room opens the door and stares at you for 5 minutes then leaves

kek

(via cumulunimbuss)

this is the future
not exactly as you wanted

this is the future

not exactly as you wanted

"Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah,"

But how would you know

Get me sum dat meowzapam

omg

I am working. Making money. I don’t know how long it will take. Last night I dreamt about Aleah. She forgave me. Loved me. It was summer and I had friends. It is raining and there is dry shit on my arms. A beer, a cigarette. Pitter patter pitter patter. Wayne’s sister died of cancer. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Jerry looks at me. He’s seventy-something. I’m tearing up. I look at someone else, I look at Wayne. Jerry is still watching me. Inside the lunch room they speak Spanish and share food. Adrian smiles, “How are you?” The accent is thick. “I’m good.”