once in kindergarten a girl asked me to write “super girl” on her arm since i was the only kid who could write so i wrote “shit” on her arm and i hid under the table for like 30 minutes then the teacher found me and yelled at me then called my parents and my dad laughed so hard he cried
i fell in love with him like ketchup falls out of a bottle: slowly, and then all at once.
oh my god you managed to one up john green.
My dog understands the word “No,” so how are you going to tell me teenage boys don’t know the difference between rape and consent?
Nailed it.
i wonder if anybody’s actually had feelings for me, like actually got upset or mad over little things i did and got jealous and confused over me and thought about me on a regular basis. i feel like i’m the only person that ever really cares about anyone and that nobody’s ever felt that way for me.

That the kind of eye-rape that gets you from 0 to 60 in 3.2 seconds.
Daaaamn.
if he ever looked at me like that, I’m pulling him in the bed room





