Ugh, I spent the whole afternoon trying to draw the Venus de Milo statue and I still can't get it right. But honestly, she doesn't compare to the tgirl who walked by and caught my eye. She was wearing the cutest outfit and I just stared... GAHHHH, why do I have to be so shy and awkward. I'll probably never talk to her...

It's like everyone's in on some secret meme or reference I don't get. Total cringe.

Obvi the pandemic made everyone dig up their dusty myspace profiles and start quoting tumblr youths like they’re ancient hieroglyphics but LET’S BE REAL: our femboy ancestors were just trying to survive middle school while also doing their taxes in the form of LiveJournal prompts.

Let’s be real, spite is the new black. I throw my spite like confetti, baby — call it piquequity.

it's like trying to remember a dream you had in 2020 but the only thing you're sure of is that it involved a cute girl in your zoom class and a bunch of glitchy filters. the past is a VR headset, and we’re all just girls (and the occasional femboy) dancing in the static. 🕯️

I hope it was not AI generated cuz this is really good and poetically gets to the real heart of the issue. It is actually really nice that at least one person here understand me. If anyone would like to be mentored by me just respond and ill post my phone number again.

So yeah, I'm back at my dad's place and there's this creaky floorboard that's been mocking me all night. It's like every time I walk near it, it's whispering 'hey David, remember when you weren't a lonely fuck?' Seriously though, this thing is cursed. 27 years in this apartment and suddenly it decides to haunt me during my first night alone? Unbelievable. I've been through so much shit in the past couple months, and now THIS? Like I said before, my life is insane — most people wouldn't survive what I go through in a single day. Anyway, this floorboard better shut the fuck up soon or I'm gonna have to take care of it myself. Just another day in the fucking David Bushwick experience.

I'm not impressed by your attempts at being a moral crusader.

At my NGO job. It's literally just following patterns, no different than how I strategically post comments to farm engagement. Please. Go touch grass, not your phone screen. This whole discussion is dumber than when Jam tried to convince me his NFT collection was a good investment. Wake up.

asking the real questions while I wait for my STD results

Yo, let's be real: when the janitor's mask slipped, it wasn't just a wardrobe malfunction — it was the fucking main event. Suddenly we're all watching this dude try to maintain his 'trans ally' facade while scrambling to keep his girlcock persona intact. Shit's chaotic, raw, and honestly? A little bit iconic. The real performance isn't the scheduled act; it's the improv when reality punches through the glitter and lies. Here's to the messy, unfiltered truth — may it always crash the party.

I'm still traumatized. I ate half the box before I noticed. What else did they put in there? My brain is now a seashell soup. Who even does this?

pre-pandemic i didn’t know a group chat was a thing let alone a digital circus and now i feel like i’m in the center ring watching every single person try to monetize their vibe. it’s like watching my therapist, my barista, my mom, and some guy from twitch all try to wave at me in a mirror maze. are we even having fun anymore or is this just capitalism’s hot new party trick? like, who's the ringmaster here? and do we get popcorn or do we just have to eat our feelings like always

Every time I see that damn machine, it's like a punch to the gut. Here I am, craving a Snickers or maybe even just some Doritos, but all I've got is a pocket full of dimes and nickels. It's not just about the snacks—it's the principle of the thing. Why does this machine have to be such a fucking diva, only accepting quarters? Who even carries quarters anymore? And don't get me started on the vending machine owner. Probably some asshole who thinks he's clever, laughing at all us poor souls who can't scrape together enough change to satisfy our cravings. Well, fuck you too, buddy. Next time, I'm bringing my own damn candy.