How To Be Broke In Your 20s In London
The time is now, Internet. To be young! And full of hope!
The time is now, Internet. To be young! And full of hope!
I said, I should’ve said this before, but I’ve no intention of dating anybody. I’m sorry. Let’s stop this before it starts.
We can’t do it alone
Every time we assist the subtraction, we fuel the other part of the dark voice inside, the one that says, “who are you to expect anything? Be grateful for the little that you do get.”
“When you finally accept that you’re a complete dork, your life gets easier. No sense in trying to be cool.”
I fell in love with you hard, and fast. Willingly. I was ready to love. I chose you.
I don’t want to decide here, in this pub, with the music too loud and the people too trendy, whether this will be the beginning.
Without the daily ritual of eleventy thousand outfit changes, I’d cease to ruin my morning, day after day, by getting frustrated at myself in the same old predictable fashion.
I was genuinely, totally and absolutely fine with my body, with my health, with what I saw in the mirror… until I wasn’t.
I never considered that other people might be comparing their Real Life with my Show Reel, though, and so here I am, earnestly cultivating the most attractive version of my life so that the brightness of the good memories can dull the emptiness of the bad, an online myth of my own making when the offline truth might be more interesting.