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Doctor Dillamond, vuela alto, preciosa… 🥹🐐

“I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”

“There I went again, building up a glamourus picture of a man who would love me passionately the minute he met me, and all out of a few prosy nothings.”

Girl… same.

🙄

adiós. este libro es inmamable.

viagra

god grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change, courage to change the things i can, and wisdom always to tell the difference.

cuentos culeros.

dopamine-driven feedback loop.