Thought.is

Nothing says, “I know what I’m doing, okay?!” than someone who knows what to order at the bar.

We didn’t move here to feel deprived. No, we moved here because we wanted all of it, all of the time. We want all the sex, all the love, all the food, all the friends, all the nights. all the jobs, all the opportunities, all the feels, all the pain, all the ecstasy.

“Can you believe it? What a quack! I guess I should go see someone else, right? Because I clearly don’t have anxiety!” I protested to my parents while possibly breathing into a paper bag.

Basically I feel the most lonely when I’m supposed to be feeling a connection but can’t or won’t or don’t. You bank on feeling one way and you end up feeling another. That’s the worst.

Last week, as part of their promotion for the Art Of Patrón contest, Patrón came over to our office, filled us up with their fabulous boozy concoctions, and let us go HAM on a bunch of their empty bottles with some art supplies.

Writing is a sedentary lifestyle and burns roughly 4 calories a day, so unless you want to gain twenty pounds in a year, I suggest you join a gym or find some other exercise other than burning brain fuel.

Sometimes it feels like we’re all on short virtual leashes with our gadgets. We say “yes” to every social gathering just so our days can be full and we won’t have to face a night alone. Why is the prospect of being by ourselves so damn scary?

Life at Alien’s compound is weird and creepy but the girls are OBSESSED with it for some reason. They have a blast riding around in fancy cars and having impromptu sing-alongs to “Everytime” by Britney Spears. It’s very cute, very precious, very Manson Family murders!

If it’s summer, I don’t need anything else. The weather can be my boyfriend, my job, my family, and confidant. I am content. I am full on summer’s magical powers and still begging for another sip.