coolcoolcoolperalta:

scuzer:

Yeah I was embarrassing when I was 15 who isn’t. Was also Embarrassing at 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. Last week. Yesterday

Today. Right now.

Tomorrow. The entire month. The next decade.

r-is-rad:

oamisoa:

I love it when people tell me about me because I have no idea who I am

I love when people say “i really like that thing you do, you know when you (insert thing)” and you had no idea that is something you do. I also love it when people know more about you than you do. I get really excited.

hi–ily:

i hate when someone tells me i shouldn’t be tired bc i slept enough like sweetie i could sleep for ten years and i’d still be tired

lordvoldetit:

am i constantly tired? yes.

but am i staying awake when i should be sleeping? also yes.

If you’re fifteen or older an still sleep with a stuffed animal please reblog this.

mchanzo-geek:

I’m 14, but I have a whole stuffed animal zoo beside me as I sleep soooooooooooo

elvensemi:

elvensemi:

elvensemi:

Does anyone else have that one friend whose sleep schedule is like an ever-evolving mystery? One day they’ll appear to be asleep for the entire 16 hours that you’re awake, but the next three they won’t appear to actually sleep at all. Sometimes they appear to be on Australian time, other times their schedule has adjusted to somewhere in the middle of the Pacific ocean. (I call this Cthulhu time.) You go a week without seeing them and you have no idea if they’re just really busy, dead, or if their sleep has simply synced up to the exact hours you’re awake and online. The only indication that they’re still in this mortal coil is vague posts about grocery shopping that pop up on their blogs at 4:12AM.

I’m horrified at myself because I randomly decided on 4:12AM for an obscure and horrible hour in the morning, but after I posted I glanced down at the clock and

did i just vaguepost about myself

There are two things I love about this post:

the number of people who are, with apologies, That Friend

the fact it keeps getting splorts of notes every day at 4:12am

pianistical:

why is it that whenever i play my instrument and it really matters my brain instantly stops functioning, i forget what a note is, my instrument bursts into flame, shosty’s ghost physically manifests and crucifies me,