in another universe, i am easy to love

I’m a simple girl I see a pathetically nerdy man and I get a lil stupid

who wants to have a knife fight in the forest with me

sometimes a girl just needs to lay on the floor and listen to i know the end by phoebe bridgers

full on offense but asylums, psych wards and any other variation of mental health facilities are not and will never be an aesthetic. mental illness is not an aesthetic.

and yes, this is coming from someone who has been hospitalized several times, fully angry that a white billionaire can be her quirky silly i-need-a-lobotomy [insert a tiktok reference] self while simultaneously having access to every single health treatment in the world.

while the rest of the world struggles to have access to a diagnosis, medication or human rights pertaining mental health.

"you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me", no, taylor. YOU wouldn't last an hour in the real world, where private jets are only ever seen on television and mental illness often means you cannot get a fucking job.

The fact that Taylor Swift has the money to build hospitals around the world and is instead using her time/money to sue a college student for posting public information shows what kind of person she is.

Dear Taylor Swift,

Mental illness is not an aesthetic.

Sincerely,

The Genuinely Tortured Poets Department

there is a special, horrible feeling when your parents choose to love god more than they love you. when they visibly and repeatedly put god above your basic needs, above your happiness, above your safety. when god is a threat. when you have learned god as a figure that hates you: and your parents still choose god above you.

i’m not calling you “sir”, you haven’t even been knighted, fucking poser

i highly recommend for women and girls to be intellectually curious and difficult to shame

gaslighting my period into thinking she’s done by not wearing a pad

rina could write the communist manifesto but marx and engels could never write xs

i’m tired of y’all pretending that the queen of pop is anyone other than rina sawayama. like let’s be honest with ourselves.