it’s just. i see you in everything, ya know? i bend at the waist to get closer to every rock i see because each one is a potential gift for you. i examine every beautiful leaf and picture it on your nightstand. i point my finger at fluffy clouds and turn my head to share my joy. sunset orange makes me think of you. sunrise pink does, too. tall buildings and green grass hold bits of you. wind gusts and book pages whisper memories of you. everywhere. you’re everywhere. no matter where you are or how long you’ve been gone, everywhere, everywhere. everywhere i look i just see you.
yeah no you gotta come pick up your man. yeah he’s suffering the mortifying ordeal of being perceived while in front of the hoes.
I’m not canonically autistic but it’s strongly implied
i am an ally to all embarrassing and uncool women forever and ever
i love how delusional some articles of clothing are, like you read the tag and its like “hand wash only/tumble dry on low” son you are a cotton tshirt. youre going in the warsh and whatever happens in there is in gods hands
eveeyones got it wrong your mid 20s arent for going to the club or partying or picking up new crafts. your 20s are for discovering how much more autistic you are than you thought you were in high school
can someone hire me as a lighthouse keeper. my grip on reality is soooo stable and i will behave so normally under conditions of extreme isolation. and i promise i wont try to fuck the light
executive function
being an adult is just saying to yourself “this is the weekend i’ll clean my [x]” and then proceeding to not do that because it’s the weekend and you deserve to relax, goddamnit