I’m turning 33, and I’m just so fucking done with family, blood or found. At least I still have metal, blorbos, my collection of commissioned artwork, and my cats.

My birthday is coming up. I’ll never understand why my mom didn’t smother me when I was newly born like she said she should’ve. My parents already had my brother as their anchor baby, they never needed me. My dad was absent for the most part of the pregnancy and didn’t meet me until weeks later.

To these day I’m still treated better at work than at home. I do not make friends with my coworkers, and my employer does not have a good reputation.

A somewhat comfortable life where I at the moment don’t have to worry about basic needs is still not easy when no one likes or respects me. Crazy how the observation I made in my teens still holds true…

I may be a perpetual black sheep and outcast that will never belong anywhere, but at least I still have metal, silly blorbos, and my cats.

White people who don’t have wrinkles other than crow’s feet are very likely to be in their 30s.

After one year of reducing red meat consumption, my cholesterols have dropped to normal levels! Yay! I shall continue avoiding red meat and greasy food wherever possible.

It’s so shiny, smooth and flowy! He could be the perfect shampoo commercial actor without even trying. 🥺😩

Why do they gotta be so beautiful!!!

I’m also gonna ask him about his perfect eyeliners… I MUST know his secret! I also NEED to ask Tim about his beautiful silky hair… can’t believe that I, a not very feminine woman in her 30s, yearn to learn beauty tips from some slightly older men, who are probably all already married. 🥴