calling my lover "mine" but not in the way that my toothbrush or notebook are mine, mine in the way my neighborhood is mine, and also everybody else's, "mine" like mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love. "mine" not like possession but devotion.
My upstairs neighbors have officially gotten to the point where they're loud enough to wake me up. I'm happy homegirl is getting her back blown out but I wish both of them and that whole family would become severely allergic to movement. They're changing me. They're making me worse.
The anthropologist in my brain is having a field day seeing reddit posters trying to adapt to Tumblr humor. Like, they're getting it, but you can tell they're thinking "okay what are my favorite tumblr posts? I know! I'll write like that!"
The end result being a significant population of users who post like it's 2015.