Post Two-Hundred and Fifty

My nails are still painted black.

I still have regular panxiety attacks.

And your mom is whack.


Haha! Just joking. Love you all, each and everyone of you. For interacting, supporting and inspiring every post I wrote after the first “like” and “follow” on Pink Starburst Anxiety.


I needed you when I still had my mother, and I’m finding out, without you–I’m very much alone without her.



I don’t make babies

I neglected my pups for his.


Though, there is Kat–she’s a peach. Somehow our depression, anxiety and sentiments align. She reads my posts, via my Twitter account, and showers me with praises I don’t deserve, but the solidarity in her experience of similar emotions is bewildering.


It’s easy to love.

I nearly always say it first, regardless of its validity, platonic nature or abruptness.

It’s easy to say, “I love you”. But/Because…what happens… if you don’t?

Platonic love is likely as fruitful as romantic love.

So clarify,

Love hard,

Be honest,

Be kind,

Or get the fuck out.

5 thoughts on “Post Two-Hundred and Fifty

Add yours

  1. Being able to be the one who says it first is an admirable quality. I tend to be that person that’s like, “What if I say that and it’s not well-received? Probably best to just keep these thoughts to myself…” So I just sit there quietly and then…way after the fact…I go, “Yup…fucked that up…” 🤦‍♂️

    Liked by 1 person

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