Tumgik
#now I want trix yoghurt
short666bread · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
More Clone Scorpius
108 notes · View notes
survey--s · 2 years
Text
112.
Tumblr media
Do you get along with your significant other’s family? We get along just fine but I wouldn’t say we were close - but saying that, Mike isn’t close to them either so that probably explains that, lol.
How would you feel if a girl asked your boyfriend out for a drink? I mean, it depends on the circumstances, but I’ve gone for drinks with my male friends so it wouldn’t necessarily bother me.
How long did it take you to get over your last ex? Pretty quickly. We were pretty much over for a long while before we formally called it quits.
Do you pick at scabs? Yeah, and spots. It’s a bad habit but it’s like a compulsion, lol.
Favorite kind of bean? Baked beans or kidney beans.
If you had to move to another country, where would you move? Canada.
Do you eat enough vegetables? Probably not.
Can you walk well in high heels? i can walk in them fine, but they give me a really bad back.
Do you like using cinnamon on or in any of your food? I love cinnamon on things like pancakes, porridge and toast.
What food does honey go best with? Greek yoghurt and bananas.
Would you ever like to own a chandelier? No, they’d be a real pain in the arse to keep clean, lol.
Do you have any religious symbols in your home? No. Nobody in this house is religious.
Do you like Taylor Swift? No. I did like her a lot as a teenager but I feel as though I’ve grown out of her music in the last five years or so.
Do you have any live versions of songs in your music software? Yeah, a few live stage albums.
Did/do you listen to Britney Spears songs? I used to, but I haven’t listened to anything of hers for ages now.
Do you normally shut your bedroom door before you go to sleep? No, we leave the door open.
Do you still make Christmas lists? I mean, my parents ask me what I want/need and I give them a few things to choose from so yeah, I guess so.
What was the last thing you wrote in a Word document? A couple of orders for work.
Do you know anybody who is gay and married? No, but my ex-flatmate is gay and he just got engaged at Christmas :)
Who is your favorite character on Friends? Chandler, Gunther, Jack Geller, Mr Heckles.
Do you find it difficult to get rid of material possessions? No.
Are you independent or dependent? I’m more independent, i think.
How many animals do you have? One dog and three cats.
Do you like rabbits? They’re cute but I wouldn’t want to have one as a pet or anything.
Do you like mushrooms? I love mushrooms, which is weird to me as I HATED them as a kid, lol.
What was the last movie you cried at? I don’t remember
Would you rather work for a small or large company? Large, for sure. But I work for myself now which is definitely better than either of those options, hahah.
Would you rather be a famous actor or musician? Actor.
What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? Punched me in the face.
Are you a fast or slow walker? I’m a fast walker.
Do you own a bobble-head toy? Nope. I really don’t get why they’re so popular.
When was the last time you went fishing? About four years ago. I thought it was mind-numbingly boring lol.
Have you ever read the book Thirteen Reasons Why? No. I watched some of the TV show, though.
When was the last time you were really angry? I can’t really remember.
Have you ever worn a tie before? Yeah, I had to wear a tie for school between the ages of 2-16 years old.
Are you good at art? I always got good grades in art but I never thought I was that good.
How many times have you read your favorite book? About five or six, at least.
Is there a war that you find interesting? I used to find World War One fairly interesting to study.
Do you like Trix cereal? I’ve never had it.
Have you ever been on Omegle? No, but I remember when it was all the rage!
Are you still in love with one of your exes? Nope.
What’s one word you hate to be called? I mean, anything derogatory or rude.
Do you live with your parents? No.
Can you do a backflip, or anything else of that sort? Hahaha, no.
Do you have any exes you can’t stand anymore? I don’t really feel anything towards my ex’s.
How old do you think you’ll be when you move out on your own? I moved out for good when I was 27, but I was back and forth from the age of 18 with university and living with an ex.
Do you know anybody that has severe allergies? No, thankfully not.
When was the last time you did clay work/pottery? Probably in about year nine at school.
Have you ever pricked your finger on holly or another "sharp" plant? Sure.
2 notes · View notes
jupiterreed · 6 years
Text
half a mile south of misery
It's been three years since I felt like a honey crust kid burning with dreams of running off to countries where they can't figure out how to pronounce my name in a culturally appropriate way. Two since the appeal of solitude turned to gunpowder and the boy I had a crush on in grade school exchanged promise rings with his tall, blonde and fawn-like, Victoria Secret stereotype of a girlfriend. We exchanged lilies in the soccer field once and I think that's the closest I've ever gotten to romance. There's something ironic about that, about how 12 year olds in spongebob boxers with trix yoghurt on their breaths develop bible beliefs of world domination. We lit dumpsters on fire, we cut class after third period, smoked our daddy’s cigars under the bleachers like a bunch of Breakfast Club rejects, watching the sun render the trees a certain baby gold and precious. There is light in the gaps where your molars are coming in. Rainstorm light, runny-nosed, slippery panic-right-after-the-disco light. And someone mutters that “college is where it's really at," and I start to believe them after I come home from school everyday miserable and hurting, knees singed on concrete, gum stuck in my hair, a chemistry book sprawled open on the dining room table, a flip phone held in front of it. Texting a not-so best friend about how Todd likes Amy but Amy’s totally into Joshua and never minding our own business. Still. It was more than classroom gossip. We had plans for the future. We were going to be rockstars and historians. We were going to rule the world or, something like that.
I thought this year would be different. I thought I'd learn to speak the tongue of grown-ups and everyday would be filled with tickets for obscure concerts and lemon scented laundry detergent, but some nights my bed still feels like a sink hole and I drown within it, hoping for stars except it’s bleeding with darkness, and feels like licking the salt clean from the wound that festers, panics skin. I wanna grow a new stomach, digest these years of primitive living. But there's a jungle gym within my veins and we’re running out of thrift shops that sell emotional maturity. Back then I was still more girl than injury and hope presented itself in a dose of antidepressants. College was meant to be sleeping with blueberry stained boys in empty dorm rooms that smell faintly of weed, netflix & chill on your mother's cheapest mattress, taking a night ferry to the beach where the whale washed ashore last summer.
If I rewind a little, I can still remember the worst year of my life. 
The year of bad choices and moving into my step sister’s bedroom and standing awkwardly at house parties I didn’t belong to with kids I didn’t know. I remember hating you. With your perfect, perfect skin and silver tongue and how your lipstick never got on your teeth and always seemed a brighter red than mine. I hated your, everything. The way you made me feel. Inferior and boneless. All your Russian doll faces. Who were you really? I find it kinda ironic that nobody seems to know. How we almost totaled your mom’s car on the night we met and your hushed promise that you’d teach me to be beautiful. Show me the art of drugstore makeup and e-cigarettes. You were convinced that I had to grow up and I was convinced you knew what you were talking about. That you never had any cruel intentions. Baby angel high on motel neons. You knew how to talk to boys and you always smelled like perfume. And I guess I wanted to be like that. Like you. Before the devil on your shoulder unravelled. Before the warning signs. The day you screamed so loud, I think the entire neighborhood thought you were being murdered and I. Almost ended up with a shard of glass wedged in my ankle. Which was why I didn’t tell you about the dirty dream I had about your boyfriend and how I never wanted to see you. Not again. I wanted my dad to go back to my mother, I used to be an only child and what I needed was a little brother - not every pretty high school cliche rolled into one ignitable package. I think despite my mixed feelings I wanted you to like me. But I was just so boring in comparison. So plain and always waning. I could never match up. Not to your oh-so-cool friends who hosted parties in their parents’ basements and smoked hash with you at 2 AM and told you everything you wanted to hear. Or those starry eyed girls who lend you their high heels because you asked so very nicely and maybe you’ll befriend them for real then. It was an out-of-body experience when I got to go back home. Before everything changed again. 
I spent nights falling asleep to the sound of our parents barking swears at each other and mom, Dad loves you but he’s just not in the position right now. And pretending thunder was softer. I went to a new school and met the girl I would call my best friend for a year and a half before she decided I wasn’t worth it anymore. She fell for a boy who would only use her and forgot my name. I was battling my own demons, I was pulling needles from under my skin and turning into fog at night. 
The summer I hungered for knives and I hungered for poetry and swallowed every pill labelled ‘pain relief’ and somehow. They made me feel bad for that, too. How they laughed at my metrical use of ‘binary stars’ as a metaphor for closeness. How normal people don’t talk like that and poetry is for shabby old geezers anyway, ones in tweed suits who’ve got nothing better to do with their lives. Stop your stonewalling and hey, you’re not a holocaust survivor, you’re just depressed about college and that happens to everybody, right? That’s funny. That’s really hilarious. I guess you’re class clown. I guess you just ‘get’ everybody. I wish I could be like everybody. Does your so-called depression keep you from taking a shower or showing up to class or running your mouth every goddamn day? I don’t want pity I just want to be left alone.
It was easier then. Under the sugary guise of high school blues. I didn’t know how the story would end but I got tired of reading so I clapped the book shut halfway. I just wanted somebody to notice, but most people can’t comprehend the dialect of closed mouths. I hate feeling like a disappointment, sacrificing sleep. Every night I got disembodied and chugged expired orange juice. We used to be so much fun. We would get drunk in your back garden and sing Pink Floyd reprises and tell each other all of our big city dreams. Stirring tiny packets of heaven into our coffees. I was going to do something that would touch the heart of the world. I was going to make the world’s eyes roll back into its head, make it see rings of cartoon stars and planets. Now all I know is the withering. Living on microwavable food and unwashed sheets and cough medicine. I discovered a new continent and fell victim to inertia. I’ve barely travelled anywhere and I just want to go see everything but I. Can’t move. “This is your fourth panic attack in a week it’s getting pathetic. Get yourself together and stop blaming the universe for your problems.”
It’s been 2 weeks since I attended class now and I know you know. I guess what I’m trying to say comes as easy as flame to wick, as rain to midmorning.
I’m sorry, dad. You shouldn’t believe in me anymore. And maybe the critics were right about Icarus’ foolish grab for the sun. I’ll keep trying to be better but there are termites feasting at my teeth. My lungs are poisonous shrubs and the forests are all dying again. I want to go back to 2012 before the world ended. I want to be the kind of daughter you can be proud of.
where she lives || j.r (do not repost w/o credit)
71 notes · View notes