Where have I been? Do people still follow me? Does anybody ever randomly check in on bs-cookies and wonder what Mikayla’s been up to the past two years? I wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t blame anybody who didn’t look in. Why? Because I’ve been a fucking trainwreck. That’s what 23 is for. 23 is a weird year. It’s not an adult. I’m all sorts of Britney Spears ~~not a gurl, not yet a woman~~ 

But really, I miss being in my first apartment. I miss being 19 years old. I miss listening to Tove Lo. I miss smoking cigarettes and drinking wine in my bathtub while reading Zora Neale Hurston and listening to Tove Lo and Amy Winehouse (rip). I miss taking just enough xanax to put me into a week-long coma only to wake up and take another dose. 

I don’t really miss my second apartment, but I miss being best friends with Kate. I miss her a lot. I miss her coming over and drinking wine with me. I miss running to the Ypsilanti Target with her. I miss watching Bridesmaids with her. I miss her a lot. But people grow up and people grow apart. 

And I’ll never be able to be 19 again. I’ll never be able to smoke cigarettes and listen to Amy Winehouse the same way again. I won’t ever be able to fathom why anybody goes to school, or why graduate school is actually a thing, or how I even got here. I’ll never understand Florence + The Machine. Like, is it just one person. Is it just Florence and is she raging against the machine or is she the machine or am I, the listener, the machine? I don’t know. And sometimes it’s okay to just not know. That’s what I’m learning as I’m ending my 23rd year of life as a human being: the smartest people in the world are the most miserable. 

Things that I miss

-being 19
- when lady Gaga was all about just getting drunk and dancing
- rose gold before it was cool
- being 30lbs lighter than I currently am right now
-the first season of Girls
-the stray cat that lived by me during undergrad
-fucking my neighbor and living in my neighbors house and having sex in my neighbors house because I was a disgusting and disrespectful 20 year old
- T-Mobile sidekicks

I’m literally fat as fuck so if somebody could just stop me now please and thank you.

queefdollaz:

sometimes i wanna be like why yall care what these white niggas (and charlamagne tha god) say about black folk den i shut up cause ion wanna hear a 30 page report from some dude of how im not in-tune with the struggles and inner intricate workings of the system and my non existent internalized self hatred but u cant win em all on this here internets

You know that feeling you feel when there’s a cold, hard, abrasive emotion that cares nothing about you and your feelings or what you consider normal? I had that feeling and instead of trying to capture it with a butterfly net, I sat there; I let it fester. It seeped deep into all of my open cuts, all of my nearly-healed scars, each of the openings of my skin and burrowed it’s way into my white bones. And the longer it sat there, hugging my rouge muscles, the more it began to feel normal. I embraced that frigid bitch and I emulated it into the air around me, hoping that it would latch onto the open wounds of those who came around me. I wanted to feel something different so badly and when I finally did, when I finally opened myself to the dirties, most selfish and foul of emotions, I finally became happy. I finally realized I don’t need to explain who I am or what I do because I am me and I do what I do. I never asked you to ask me for an explanation of my behavior, so don’t fucking ask. I never told you it was okay to police my behavior, so stop fucking doing it.

This is just a friendly PSA to whoever may come across this post: don’t ever apologize for who you are or what you do. You are your own individual human on this planet of billions who walk, talk, dress, and look just like you – but nobody acts exactly as you. So, when the world tries to tell you to be somebody else, to act like something else, throw your middle fingers up, because you’re perfect the way you are.

Thoughts while 23.

We are all just bodies, walking around on the earth aimlessly, attempting to meet the people we are supposed to meet. It is not a coincidence that the people we meet and the people we interact with make meaning for us. And it is not meaningless that we, too, have the same effect upon others. We are all souls, attempting to evolve into higher beings, higher levels of Self. We go through this thing called Life, where Time and Truth and Space matter only so much as is necessary for the length of our arrival to departure. It is no accident we see people we thought we have met before, see images we are certain have already occurred. We live this life, over and over again, in order to make sense of it, in order to learn, not just from one another, but from ourselves. And when we have learned what we able, what we are supposed to, or all that the body can endure, we leave. But we are not alone when we leave. We are greeted by those who have taught us, those who have loved us, those have comforted and encouraged and embodied us. So, when we leave, we are not really gone; we are imprinted into the lives of every meaning-making body and spirit on earth. 

wish i could spend the rest of my life in bed watching episodes of Buying Alaska.

milaskunny:

madamebassdrum:

msjewbooty:

the Clue Klux Klan…solving mysteries in a racist sort of way

i think you mean “the police department”

Things that Happened to Me Today:

1. Found out a girl I was friends with in elementary school is now a porn star.