#but the ppl who actually need to hear that stuff would never willingly watch a cideo like that

[death-limes]

my sister keeps insisting i need to make a video essay about h*zbin/h*lluva/v*vz*epop but as cathartic as that would be i can’t help but think it would just make things worse…. im not even sure i have enough to add to the conversation to justify making such a thing

it runs into the territory of the “____ is Garbage and Here’s Why” video essays that at worst are just bad-faith CinemaSins ripoffs disguised as essays & at best are just redundant rants that don’t seem to have any real purpose or say anything insightful

[sandysmoved]

(Happy Valentine’s Day gay ppl Beffica is sad and I for one think if she fell in love with my OC maybe she wouldn’t be so sad LETS GO LESBIANS)

“Isn’t it SO sad that I call you Bestie?”

Saffi glared at her journal like a mean eye would make the words write themselves, chewing on the end of her pencil harshly. Then, she thought about how long it had been since she’d had more than sauce and foraged plants to eat, and hastily switched to nibbling on her candy necklace, lest she end up developing a taste for wood.

“Haha, I, like, barely know you.”

Behind her, Sprout continued to chant his muffled little babbling, running in circles on the cot like a cat getting ready to settle down. It would be adorable (oh hell, it WAS adorable), if it wasn’t just another distraction bouncing around in her head.

The notes. The maps. The tracks. A missing explorer, and her not-so-missing girlfriend. That thing standing on the cliffs, watching from the treeline. What did it all mean?

“And if I DID get to know you, you’d probably hate me for it.”

Okay Saffi. Deep breaths. You’re smart. You’re good at mysteries. Misplaced mascots aside. Keep it together.

Her pencil refused to cooperate though, continuing to idly shade strands of a violet ponytail in a graphite monochrome.

“Oh well, enjoy it while it lasts, Beffy.”

“UGH.”

Saffi slammed her head on the desk, the pounding in her brain drowning out the concerned chattering of the captive Strabby skittering around the floor.

“This sucks. This sucks so big.”

She wasn’t gonna get any work done like this. She could barely even sit still, her foot tapping out an idle tune (get up everybody, come on and do the wiggle with meee) as she slammed her journal shut. Saffi hummed around her pencil (god, she really WAS going to acquire a taste for it at this point) as she leaned back in her chair and pulled her hair back up into her scrunchie. It wasn’t too terribly late, only a half hour or so after sunset maybe. Surely someone in town would have a request, or maybe she could try hunting down that annoying Noodler for Floofty again. Nothing burned off manic energy like actually getting set on fire accidentally.

“Isn’t it SO sad that I call you Bestie?”

...no. That could wait. Saffi had something more important to do right now, and she had an idea how she was going to do it. She spun in her chair, kicking open the box under her cot, and slid off onto the floor to dig through its contents, tugging an old, worn album from underneath a tangle of useless stuff.

“Haha, I, like, barely know you.”

Well then. Time to fix that.

~*~

Beffica sighed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes as she idly traced lines in the dirt with a stick. This sucked. This sucked REALLY BIG, actually. It would probably suck a little smaller if she wasn’t sitting on a cold hard stone threshold, but like hell was she gonna join the others by the fire when Cromdo was over there, being all...loud. And old. And Cromdo. The squeeb. She probably would’ve gone and wandered idly around the huts, maybe looked at Wiggle’s records again, but she wasn’t in the mood to get yelled at if she came back early.

Or she could go up to the airship, but...no. After that...super uncool moment she’d let slip earlier, she wouldn’t be surprised if Saffi wasn’t too interested in hanging out. Hell, she’d rather go back to the stupid cave right now, than-

Grass crunched underfoot, and Beffica glanced up, blinking in surprise at the sunset orange grumpus standing at her door. Saffi glanced down at her, her expression...odd, in the flickering firelight across the way. Her fingers drummed a bit (nervously?) on the surface of the book she was holding, before they stilled, and she took a deep breath, blinking.

Beffica opened her mouth to say...well, she didn’t know, and she didn’t have the chance to know, because Saffi beat her to it.

“I know...I know it’s...scary.”

She paused, like she was trying to remember the meaning of the words her brain had shoved out prematurely, and for once, Beffica didn’t have a response. Instead, she sat up a bit straighter, watching Saffi find the thread to explain. Patience wasn’t exactly a virtue that came naturally to her. Maybe that’s why she had been so bad at her job, in the end. Maybe that’s why she’d been so bad at a lot of things. But for some reason, in this particular instance? She was willing to wait a lifetime to find out what Saffi had to say.

“It’s scary, being known. Letting yourself be known. And that’s okay! It’s okay to be afraid. But…”

Here it comes.

Beffica flinched without meaning too, and she hoped Saffi didn’t see it. She didn’t need to look any more pathetic than she already had earlier.

Did you enjoy it, Beffy? Was it fun while it lasted? Would you do better if you could do it all over again? Not like it matters, you can’t-

“But, if I’m your bestie…and I really, REALLY like being your bestie, for the record...then maybe...I think you should at least know me.”

Beffica froze, staring up at Saffi with eyes so wide she felt like they’d pop out and roll away. What? Pardon, what?

Saffi looked down at the book, cracking it open and tracing some of the dusty contents with her eyes, suddenly very aware of how known she was offering to be.

“If. If you want to,” she murmured, suddenly looking very, very small.

And Beffica still had no words. What could she say? What could she possibly say in response to something like this? She hadn’t rehearsed for this moment (and clearly, neither had Saffi), she’d never had any preparation for this. This wasn’t a tasty morsel of information hiding under someone’s bed, a secret to be uncovered hiding behind a tree in the middle of the night. This was knowledge offered. This was someone being vulnerable, and willingly. This was sharing.

With Beffica, of all grumps.

She didn’t know what to say.

So instead, she scooted over, patting the empty space next to her in the doorway, and Saffi’s doubts visibly melted from her posture like snow from a rooftop. She plopped down unceremoniously, cracking the old album open on her knee, and Beffica didn’t hesitate to lean in close to watch her fingers trace the page to tap an old photo. “See, that’s me when I was a toddler, I spent the summer with my grandparents, and-“

Beffica couldn’t tell what the sound that escaped her throat at the sight was; kinda groan and kinda laugh. “Oh my GRUMP, bestie, no offense, but who in the world let you leave the house with your hair chopped up like that?”

“I know, right? My grandmother, bless her cotton socks but that woman should NOT have been legally allowed with ten yards of kitchen scissors-“

Saffi launched into the story like it was the easiest thing in the world, like she was reading off the latest big scoop, instead of inviting someone she’d only known a few weeks into the treasure chest of her life. Every story was like that, every explanation for why her clothes were so oversized and mismatched, or who gave her that particular stuffed animal. And not once, not once did she try to prod Beffica to contribute her own anecdote, back her into a conversational corner that could only end in an unwanted revelation, or a total shutdown.

It was...nice. Comfortable. Listening to her talk. Getting to know Saffironica Snakattak (“Only my granny calls me that, though. Granny and Floofty. The rest of you should all call me Saffi.”) as more than just the bright-eyed journalist who fell out of the sky and started pulling everyone back together in her orbit.

And if Beffica leaned in a little more with each tale? For a closer look? To hear better? To rest her head against Saffi’s arm as the night grew chilly?

Who had to know?

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

You said we can ask you questions so here goes( hope they arent invasive)

-at what age did u realise u were lesbian?was it easy/hard to accept?

-how was your coming out like? How did your family and friends react?

-were you ever/are you religious?do u believe one can balance between being homosexual and religious?

- were you always masc or is it something that came with accepting your sexuality?

-do you call yourself a stud?

- how hard/easy has it been being an out and proud black lesbian?

- thoughts on the stigma against stud4stud/butch4butch lesbians

-were you ever a TRA/libfem? If yes, what made you peak?

-ive had ppl talk about how masc lesbians being touch-me-nots is problematic/toxic and how its more about upholding a "status" than it is about preference. What do you make of that?

Not invasive at all! I'm happy to answer and thank you for asking :).

- I realized I was a lesbian at age 12 when I developed a HUGE crush on my gorgeous English teacher. I also got a small crush on a girl in one of my classes. I didn't grow up around much homophobia so it wasn't hard for me to accept that I was gay but what was hard was the absolute intensity of my feelings towards my teacher. I used to pray to god to have my feelings for her taken away because they were just so intense and I didn't know how to handle them (she was my teacher so I clearly wasn't going to ask her out. There was literally no outlet for what I was feeling so I kept it bottled.). My parents never brought up gay people in any positive or negative way and the kids I grew up around didn't really either. So me being gay wasn't something I beat myself up over. Once I accepted that I wasn't an overly invested straight ally, the road to acceptance was a peace of cake tbh.

-My coming out was... Well. I first started coming out to my friends when I was 13 and they were accepting of it. It honestly wasn't that interesting to tell you the truth 😅. All the peers that I gave a shit about never gave me shit for being gay. I never lost a friend for being gay. Coming out to my parents took me until I was 16 and the reason for that is because I genuinely didn't know how they'd react. Like I said, they never said anything about gay people point blank period. However, I was kind of forced to come out one particular night because my heart had been fucking shattered by a girl I was strongly crushing on at the time. I was pacing up and down my house, my best friend wasn't answering me, I could hear my dad's TV playing, it was late, I was tired, I couldn't sleep, I had school tomorrow, I was freaking out, I was devastated... I wanted to be comforted so I went to my father, threw my head into his arm and started telling him how my heart felt broken. He asked me if I had a boyfriend and when I said "nope" there was some silence and he was like "it's okay, I've known for a long time". I never actually said the words "gay" or "lesbian" during my coming out but I guess I didn't need to. The next morning, my father asked if it was okay if he could go tell my mom and I said yes. Long story short, my mom was even less surprised than my dad and she's the more progressive of the two so it wasn't really an issue (though she did tell me to keep an open mind in terms of liking men 😅 she seems to think I'm bisexual which is whatever because she never bothers me about it).

-Hmm. I don't like to completely cut out religion from my life. My father was extremely religious and now that he's gone, I feel it's disrespectful for me to say God doesn't exist. Like, "dad, you spent practically your whole life believing wholeheartedly in God but guess what! It was a waste and the thing you dedicated your life is something I think is a fairytale!" that doesn't sit right with me at all. I've been baptized and I used to go to church when I was younger. I think that there's no reason to shake my head at the possibility of a God. In terms of being gay and believing in God, I once watched a video by a devout Christian gay man who went through all the homophobic stuff Christians love to quote from the bible and gave the actual meaning behind them. I, personally, do not think that God is homophobic. I think that God's love is not something we have the capacity to understand. So, I, personally, think Christian gay people are perfectly fine and are already balanced. Here's to hoping that they stay away from homophobic churches!

-No, I wasn't always masc. As a child I was a huge girly girl. Like, legit, I wasn't a tomboy in the slightest lmao. I'm not sure when I started being masc. But what I do know is that I've grown far more masc over the years. I used to not want to dress too manly (no tuxedo's and no clothes from the men's section and no boxers) but nowadays I love all of those things and that's genuinely what I want in my wardrobe so I have no problem going into the men's section for my clothes.

-No, I don't call myself a stud. Love those guys though. The label I feel that's most accurate for me is masc.

-Um, I'm not sure how to answer this since I don't have experience being any other kind of lesbian. I guess it's just kind of tiring. I'm black, female, and homosexual. That's a LOT of different topics to give my attention to. The hardest part of being a black lesbian is knowing who to give my camaraderie to. Do I give it to black women? Black women AND black men? Lesbians? Only black lesbians? The lgb community as a whole? It's just a lot to think about. I will say, though, I think that it's a lot harder to be a masc black lesbian than a white one. Black women are already perceived as manly just based off of our skin color. So for me to willingly present masc can often be... A non-pretty picture in the eyes of society and I'm hyper-aware of that which is why I often have trouble going all out with the wardrobe I truly desire. That's my biggest challenge navigating the world as the black lesbian that I am. On a more positive note though, it's great being a black lesbian because I can have an opinion on everything and nobody can tell me I'm being racist/homophobic/sexist or stepping outside of my lane 😂. I'm on a three-lane road motherfucker and I'm not afraid to use all of them.

-my thoughts are that you should leave people alone. I will say though, I once read something that was like "if you call yourself a femme but the idea of being with a butch disgusts you, you're not a femme, you're just a feminine lesbian" and that rang true to me so it feels hypothetical (and nonsensical) if the reverse wasn't true as well. If a butch/stud shits on femmes and assumes they can't be as feminine as they are and ACTUALLY gay then I do have a problem. Butches and femmes have a history that's damn near inseparable from each other so for a butch to shit on femmes... I'd argue that they're probably not butch but instead just masculine lesbians. However, I don't care if two butches or studs want to date lmao. All the power to them, I hope they're happy.

-I definitely used to support trans rights more than I do now. I would correct people who misgendered others. I thought trans women were women. I was in support of bathroom laws. I never made posts about it, but I very much did believe it. Magdalen berns made me peak. I started realizing that gender makes no sense. I did some research and came to the conclusions I hold today. Even when I want to go back to my ignorance, I can't because I've seen too much by now.

-I honestly don't know. I think that some masc lesbians don't want to be put in that "feminine" position of being touched by their partner. It could stem from upholding a status but at the end of the day, sexual boundaries are sexual boundaries. What are you gonna do? Force your touch on to them? Yikes. Leave them be. If you're upset about your partner not wanting to be touched by you then get a new one. Clearly you're not sexually happy so leave. I don't think it's necessarily toxic unless they think there's something inherently demeaning in being touched by their partner or they do want to be touched but won't allow themselves due to trauma or feeling like there's a certain persona they must uplift. Other than that though, I don't see the issue.

Thanks for the questions, buddy ❤️

[loplainlointhemorning]

Omg your tags... Can you talk more about your songwriting pls? I'm at that point now where I'm just trying to finish as many songs as I can, not caring so much abt the quality bc otherwise I will never finish one. I still only have a few, I'm trying to learn the process and what works for me. But it's so encouraging to hear someone else talk abt this like I keep comparing myself to famous ppl I listen to and it feels like they just have a gift and I don't

dude, I have been comparing myself to artists I look up to constantly, ever since I got into music at fourteen, wondering why I’m not good enough. I think it’s normal. The truth is, when you stop listening so much to beginner’s self doubt, perfectionism, and in my case, chronic anxiety, everybody is the same. The people who are really good are really good because they sat down and fucked around with instruments long enough to understand them, the people who are really good are really good because they love what they do, and all of them wrote shitty songs in their late teens/early 20s/whenever they started out. I have(and still do) beat myself up for everything from writing too fast to writing too slow, for taking months long breaks because of mental health issues, for lyrics that my band laughed at, for only knowing how to play one instrument, the list goes on...But I comfort myself with facts like these:

PJ Harvey was asked about her first ever song in an interview from 1995 and that’s the closest I’ve seen her come to blushing; She said it was about a girl going on an adventure and that it was awful. She reiterated in a magazine that most of her earliest work was ‘terrible’ and heavily influenced by Irish folk music, meaning, apparently, that it was full of tin whistles. It took her years before she was comfortable playing her orginal music in front of other people(and if you watch her early Dry performances, she’s not even all that comfortable in the first place.) The important thing is, PJ Harvey hated her early songs.

Nick Cave said that he was ashamed of the Birthday Party’s discography up until Junkyard and that he didn’t like to think about those albums. Nick Cave hated his early songs- And Nick Cave is partially famous DUE to these early songs, go figure.

Courtney Love bashes Hole’s first album Pretty On The Inside nearly constantly, calling it ‘unlistenable’ and saying it was more about her persona being established than making good music. Courtney Love hated her early songs- and, once again, her band was given its name and image because of them.

I BEG you to listen to five seconds of David Bowie’s first album, which he doesn’t discuss.

If these people, who mean the world to me and have saved hoards of others from personal destruction, had given up bc they were Bad at a young and inexperienced age we wouldn’t have their music and it’s not an exaggeration to say that that would have ended in suicide for a big number of people. If you can get your ego in place, you can believe the same about your music, and the thing that’s going to keep you motivated more than anything else is Ego.

We live in a world right now where popular music lacks human hands and clumsiness and rawness and so the fact that both of us are, against the odds, composing music that still reflects those things is a rebellion. It’s important that we keep writing, not just because we deserve to be good songwriters because we care about it, but because for music to evolve there needs to be a constant underground of young people with limited skills trying their best. Plus, if we’re both lucky, we’ll end up saving people the same way we were saved and if it takes a few notebooks of three note trauma songs to get there then fine(besides, who doesn’t love a good three-note trauma song?).

But beyond the ‘glory’ of it(and I think to do anything artistic you have to romanticize it to a certain degree), I started songwriting seriously at the end of a bad relationship when I was sixteen, nearly seventeen. When that relationship ended, I wrote constantly. I wrote about everything. My main influences were Bikini Kill and The Runaways and I hadn’t developed my seriousness towards lyrics yet so anything went. I’d write three songs in a week, realize that two were bad and play the third one for my band only to get laughed at for writing something like “I swallow Clorox” which was a confessional thing about suicidal thoughts that hurt my feelings, but wasn’t articulated well.

I wrote Nirvana knock-off songs and I wrote Hole knock-off songs and I half finished at least one hundred different things and I have three notebooks filled with them, the latter half being the worst fake-Nick Cave writing I have ever read. From all of 2018, during which I probably wrote 30-35 songs, I have two that I would actually put on an album and three that I can remember/still like. Once I got my mental health under control, I did the same thing for the bulk of 2019. This stage you’re at is NOTHING TO FEEL BAD ABOUT. It’s like making stuff out of Play-Doh or fingerpainting. It’s FUN and you’re learning, Extremely Quickly, a million different skills that you’re going to need over the course of your life. Lyric writing, the classic verse/chorus/verse, how to invert that, experimental tactics, particular playing styles that you like, playing styles that you HATE, etc.

And the best part about it is that some of your songs are good! Some of them have good parts that you’ll take out later to put into better songs! You’re probably sitting on two or three good songs at the moment, maybe even more, maybe you’ve got a whole album of brilliant material and you just don’t know it. In thirty years your demos could work like Vashti Bunyan’s and be the proto-whatever of a new genre. I really don’t want to make you think that all your material right now is bad, because that idea has actually been super detrimental to me and is a shitty narrative pushed to push beginners. I’m saying that it’s OKAY for you to be bad, that even experienced people write bad shit, but that if you think you’ve written some bangers they deserve to be recognized as such.

To close, new phase that I was talking about, the quality over quantity phase, is definitely something I had to work up to. 90% of it is taking in enough new music to understand what you really want from yourself, and the rest of it is gaining enough confidence to willingly let other people hear what you do. I only started taking my shit this seriously in late December of last year because I knew people would be hearing it, and that has its set backs too: My perfectionism is crazy right now and I have to kick back against it all the time. The perks of getting to the point where you can hone yourself are that you build real relationships with your songs, and that you have some idea of what you want. But I also think that it’s healthy to go through the quantity over quality phase over and over again throughout the course of your career, because there’s no way to really write in a new style unless you keep going back to frenzied experimentation. If we both end up pursuing this long term, we’ll probably have to work on Finishing over Perfecting a million times over, and its best to make peace with it now.

I am so sorry that this is like. A million paragraphs but another important aspect of songwriting is procrastinating by being on tumblr so!!! You’re doing just fine. Keep up the good work, and feel free to talk to me or share music with me anytime. I hope this helps, or at least isn’t a boring read.

[ledamemangociana]

2020 20 questions meme time UWU

i was tagged by @decertatio to do this! i havent spent enough time on here recently to tag anyone, B U T! if you see this and would like to do this, consider yourself tagged, and let me know! i wanna read your answers UWU

-----

1. Do you make your bed? - GAWD NO, at least not 70% of the time, im so bad at this. it’s coz on the weekdays, i start working at 6:30am or 7am at home coz my bosses are in Australia and a lot of our clients are in Australia and/or New Zealand, and they’re 3 or 4 hours ahead of us, so i gotta get on those emails and support case tickets as soon as i can, so i give myself about an hour to catch up, and then i hurry out of the condo to get to the office before im marked late at 10am lolololol. on the weekends, when im at home, BECAUSE im just at home, i never fix my bed coz im in it 85% of the time anyway lakdjf

2. What’s your favorite number?  - 13, cliche as it sounds. not coz i think it’s lucky or anything, but because other people around me thought it was. i kind of clung onto it when i was in high school coz i wanted to fit in by standing out.

3. What’s your job? - An accounts and client services manager at a digital services agency.

4. If you could, would you go back to school? - Probably not. I love learning, HATE studying. 

5. Can you parallel park? - i never got far enough into being taught how to drive by mom to get to parking

6. A job you had which would surprise people? I think every job I’ve ever held, tbh. I graduated interior design mainly because my dad told me to when i asked him if i should enroll in advertising instead (the entrance exam i passed was good for either course). the only ID job i ever had lasted only two weeks, at a firm i had to do my internship/OJT at. it was my first job, and i was let go after two weeks. after that, i was a call center agent for two months, and then a copywriter for 6 months, and then an SEO specialist for a year and a half, and then a social media content/community manager at one firm for one year, and then for another agency for 3 and a half, and now im in my second year as an accounts manager at a digital services cloud agency. even i’m surprised at this job list tbh.

7. Do you think aliens are real? - i absolutely do believe that we are not the only life in this big, huge, wide, expansive universe that the planet earth is but a miniscule blip on. there’s definitely other life out there.

8. Can you drive a manual car? - i haven’t driven a car legitimately outside of learning how to drive, but yeh i probably can, since that was what my mom taught me with.

9. What’s your guilty pleasure? - junk food and soft drinks, but in general i try not to feel guilty about anything i take pleasure in

10. Tattoos? - none, but i am ACHING for them. i’ve had ideas for a loooong time. one that i DEFINITELY want to get as my first one is part of a letter that i found that my mom wrote for me in high school. “i know that you will be able to stand up for yourself and the world will stop and take notice.” i still have the letter, so i still have it in her handwriting. i want it on the inside of my left forearm. 

11. Favorite color? - Pink! lighter/softer/pastel shades are my preferred ones, but i love any shade or hue of pink tbh

12. Things people do that drive you crazy? - i hate fake guilt trips. like, when someone wants me to do something that i can’t do, they’ll come in with like “nah, it’s fine, i’ll just drop all these SUPER IMPORTANT things im doing and go out of my way to do this thing that im asking you to do because i’m SOOOOO sorry that you’re unable to do it yourself” coz it’s like...dude, if you really were able to do that or if you wanted to actually do that, you wouldn’t have asked me to do the thing in the first place. like, you’re clearly just saying that to make me feel bad enough to make me drop everything im doing and do whatever it is you asked me to do. i also hate when ppl fish for compliments by being falsely humble or self-deprecating. like. PLEASE, y’all, i’ve lived with negative amounts of self-esteem for literal decades, i know the difference between actual self-loathing and you just wanting to hear good things about yourself that you don’t want to be called narcissistic for saying about yourself. i know what it sounds like when someone is actually going THRU something or is actually having an actual hard time accepting themselves and/or asking people for what they need as opposed to when someone just wants to be told something. like. don’t insult my intelligence and experiences like that. granted, there are nuances to consider for all of these things, bUT like i said, i know the differences when i see them.

13. Any Phobias? - i have a phobia of drowning that’s light enough to NOT keep me away from water but bad enough to sometimes make watching or listening to scenes where someone could potentially drown to set some triggers off for me. i also just have a really really bad fear of dying because of getting my oxygen cut off, coz that sounds like a really slow, painful way to die.

14. Favorite childhood sport? - i was never really a sports kid. the only sport i ever really enjoyed playing willingly was badminton. i trained for a few summers but never competed, but i got good enough to make games in a court fun. i still have my badminton racquet, it’s the only Legit™ badminton racquet in the house (it’s a Yonex, handed down to me by my trainer, only been restrung twice or thrice coz the last restringing was done so damn well), all the other racquets were inexpensive unbranded knock-offs that were good enough for me and my family to have casual games with.

15. Do you talk to yourself? - yes but mostly as a product of deep focus or concentration, or really heavy emotion. having social media has lessened doing it for the latter since i can just vent on here or on twitter, but when im doing stuff for work that’s hard or needs a lot of focus or concentration, i have full-on stand-up meetings with myself.

16. What movie do you adore? - “Romy And Michele’s High School Reunion.” it’s not a perfect movie by any means, but for someone who was a bullied outcast for much of elementary and high school years in a private, all-girls, Catholic school where everyone was tall and thin and pretty and pale and smart and popular, ALL the things that i wasn’t, it was - is? - like a beacon or a hug.

17. Do you like doing puzzles? - heck yeh, coz solving them makes me feel smart, and not being able to solve them but learning HOW to is so much fun for me.

18. Favorite kind of music? - i don’t know that i have one, to be honest, i haven’t listened to current radio in literal YEARS because i dont own a radio in the condo, i barely watch TV anymore, and i dont spend enough time in a vehicle to really know what’s up. i enjoy pop, hip-hop, rnb, showtunes.

19. Tea or coffee? - more of a coffee person myself, actual tea always just tastes LEGITIMATELY like leaf water to me, and i cant find a liking for it. i do really love sweet tea and milktea tho. but yeh, im mostly a bean juice person.

20. The first thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up? - An architect, like my dad. i thought i would be one, up until i discovered writing in high school, and then i thought i wanted to become a journalist until i took it up as my first course in college and hated it. but yeh, it was always “architect! like daddy!” when i was asked that question when i was a kid. i looked up to him so much as a kid, and he and i were super tight when i was younger coz i was his firstborn and a daughter. we used to call each other best friends. i miss those days a lot; things between us seemed simpler, but maybe that’s because i didn’t have the ideals, knowledge and capacity to question the way he loves/loved me as My Parent™. our relationship these days is absolutely skewed and skewered.