Tell Me This Isnt Bluesey Core And You’d Be Lying

Heard something new in a song I've listened to 200 times

oh to be a little cat and sit in a windowsill

oh jesse that was diabolical

secret calls in the phone/sewing/cat room (chapter 4 of bllb u will always be famous to me)

Rubens Santoro (Italian, 1859-1942) - Evening on a Venetian canal

i am nooooot locked the fuck in. im locked the fuck out. call the locksmith

no sentence fills me with utter loathing so much as "i asked chatgpt"

"it's all in your head" correct! unfortunately I am also in there

the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.