Veronica > Recent Status Updates

Si el síndrome de imposto fuera persona seria esta muchacha

I face-palmed as I pictured it: the breezy ambience of the office, the light words, the girl maybe tossing a little moue over her shoulder as she playfully presented her ass; perhaps she started at the stinging sensation, but then—off to lunch and laughter! PERO EN CABEZADE QUIEN CABE QUE ESTO ES UN ESCENARIO PLAUSIBLE PEADZO DE MONGOLA

“Why would you want to have a friendship with someone like that?” And I said something like “Well, he was very persistent and he can be a lot of fun.” Which was true. LAS NEURONAS JUSTAS PA PASAR EL DIA

Esta tía????

"The lessons she imparted, the proof of her life lived on in me, in my every move and deed. I was what she left behind. If I could not be with my mother, I would be her."

"She observed me with unparalleled interest, inexhaustible devotion.
Now that she was gone, there was no one left to ask about these things. The knowledge left unrecorded died with her"

"She was my champion, she was my archive. She had taken the utmost care to preserve the evidence of my existence and growth, capturing me in images, saving all my documents and possessions. She had all knowledge of my being memorized. The formation of every characteristic. Every ailment and little victory. She observed me with unparalleled interest, inexhaustible devotion."

"... unable to accept that the same degree of fulfillment may await those who wish to nurture and love as those who seek to earn and create."

"I imagined myself years from that moment, confronted by the same emotions. For the rest of my life there would be a splinter in my being, stinging from the moment my mother died until it was buried with me."

"We were not innately, intrinsically intertwined the way I was with my mother, and now that she was sick, I was unsure of how we’d manage to pull through together." ooooooof

"That my care played such a principal role in her life was a vocation I naively condemned, rebuffing the intensive, invisible labor as the errand work of a housewife who’d neglected to develop a passion or a practical skill set. It wasn’t until years later, after I left for college, that I began to understand what it meant to make a home and just how much I had taken mine for granted."

Ay💔

"Sometimes my grief feels as though I’ve been left alone in a room with no doors. Every time I remember that my mother is dead, it feels like I’m colliding with a wall that won’t give. There’s no escape, just a hard surface that I keep ramming into over and over, a reminder of the immutable reality that I will never see her again."

"I’m angry at this old Korean woman I don’t know, that she gets to live and my mother does not, like somehow this stranger’s survival is at all related to my loss. That someone my mother’s age could still have a mother."

"I’ll wonder what my mom would have looked like in her seventies," OOF

Como fan del tteokpokki secundo esta moción

"Dressed in red and silver, she evoked the sounds and imagery of fire engines as they tore through the streets of New York, alarming the heart with the violent gong of catastrophe" Nueva meta de vida que la gente me describa así

No me estoy enterando de nada

—¿Si destruyen todo? —Aceptó el desafío—. La destrucción no cuenta. Siempre se puede volver a crear.
Me pregunté si en verdad podríamos, mientras apoyaba el auricular y miraba mis libros. ¿No era un impulso, esta evidencia? ¿Seguiríamos adelante sin ella? ¿Hasta dónde dependíamos de viejos logros?

What is going on

In my 'man posing as an intellectual' era. Catch me reading this in a coffee shop wearing a tote bag

Maemia que mal escrito esta estooooooooo

God, English translations really are shit

I was promised a horror book...

Cuánto más porno puede haber en menos de 300 pgs

A siren with bowel problems?