why is my therapist making me talk about grief and loss (i brought it up) i don’t want to process my emotions i just want to let them fester inside of me until i evaporate
romanticizing my life by telling myself that if geto suguru was real he would be a 5’6” offputting nonbinary american person with an overgrown mullet working a retail job (me)
yesterday marked one month since my dog died and i had a dream that she was alive and running around the neighborhood. i miss her more than anything. brains are fucked up.
i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog i miss my dog
how it felt doing audio for a short film that had to be done within 48 hours knowing that as soon as i finished id have to drive to hometown to put my dog down tomorrow
they should invent a having to euthanize your elderly childhood dog that doesn’t make you feel like you’re watching your life from an outside perspective and like you will never feel whole again