Hi, Kingskins Whole Deal Being That He Had All These Opportunities Laid Out In Front Of Him And Instead

i'm so normal about liv skyler. her best friend is a divorced security guard in her fifties. she got into stanford. she's deeply kind. the bisexual crime lord whose body she's possessing helped her squeeze someone to death. she's maybe dating his bodyguard. she steals for fun. she's casually savage. she's the best boss this crime syndicate's ever had. what's this movie rated

"match my freak!" match my sweetness. match my benevolence. match my empathy. match my ability to feel emotions so deeply it tears me apart from the inside out

-SOCIALS-

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04/11/24

I don’t think I’ll ever be someone's first choice. I wish I could say ‘Oh, they love me’ or ‘Oh, they think I hold up the sun’. But I don’t think I’ll ever have that. I’m nice. But not nice enough to think of that way. I light up a room. But I don’t light up their life. I’m beautiful. But not beautiful enough to be their first. It kind of makes me sick. It leaves a pit in my stomach. The fact that I won’t have this romance I’m looking for. That I am bound to love more than they will ever love me. I think that reflects in my taste. I go after people that won’t ever love me for who I truly am. I don’t think I want to be loved for who I truly am. That’s terrifying. For someone to know me that deeply. To know the ins and outs of my skin. My perfect half. Searching. Falling. Failing. It’s everywhere. It’s in my favorite movie. The Half of It. It doesn’t have a good ending, or at least a ‘happy’ one depending on what you consider happy. It’s bittersweet. Just like how love is. Everyone moves behind, moves on. I’m stuck back, tripping over myself as I try to crawl forward and keep up. My fingers digging into the dirt, soil gathering underneath, my tears leaving a trail of lilies of the valley behind me. They’re poisonous. Did you know that? They kill if ingested. They mean love, yes. But they also mean sadness. In the 1800s, they represented ‘return to happiness’. I don’t know if I truly have that. Occasionally, yes. I feel it, I feel loved, I feel happy. But other times I feel sad. I feel lost. I feel like I’m pushing and chasing and tripping. Occasionally they stop, waiting for me to catch up. I scramble after them. Only for them to leave me behind anyways. Am I doomed to be too much to love forever? Is this what the gods wanted? Is this my punishment? Am I selfish to think of that? That I am doomed to wander alone forever? Doomed to watch others find their own? Gods, I hope not. Even if I have to pray. If I have to give up my dignity for my second half. I will do it, because as long as I find them, as long as I am with them. I am whole. We are too strong for the deities. Maybe that’s why they separated us.

“Love is messy and horrible and selfish and bold. It's not finding your perfect half. It's the trying and the reaching and failing. For the chance at a great one.”

- THE HALF OF IT, ALICE WU

I hate when people tell young girls

“He’s mean to you/bully you because he likes you”

absofuckinglutely NOT

I wish somebody would tell my future daughter or any child of mines that bullshit

That boy doesn’t like you, he’s harassing you and doesn’t like that your not obeying him and his disgusting behaviors😑🤨

I have so much love for tiny old men who have insane amounts of power at their fingertips and use it all for having the time of their lives fucking with those around them

04/04/24

I love my friends. I look at them and I just see so much beauty in them. They’re my sisters. They’re who know me best, but, they are also who know me the worst. They are not my carbon copy, in fact, they’re the opposite. They’re quiet, unless they’re together, they’re comfortable with the familiar. Most of all, they think they’re ugly. I think they’re beautiful. I like to run my fingers through their hair, and simply stare at them. It hurts, when I take photos of them, them having me take the photos over and over again. “Ewww, I look ugly in that. Redo. Redo.” or when one always covers their face in every photo, when in fact, they look best candid. Where I have to scour my phone for one photo. One where her face is shown. It hurts to hear them talk about themselves like that. But, I do the same. So why is it any different? Why do I get upset when they talk about themselves so negatively? Then I’ll turn around and inspect myself in the mirror, taking in the awkward shape of my nose, my every flaw, every pimple. I think they need to treat themselves better. Just like how I need to treat myself better. I’m imperfect. I know that much. I’m not this ‘fox beauty’, ‘deer beauty’, or anything like that. That bullshit. It’s all bullshit. Others say I look like a horse, call me a rat. When did the way others see me affect the way I see myself? If I change the way I see myself, will that change the way my friends see themselves? Does the outlook, and thought of myself, affect others?