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Twitter is an asshole.

The human is in and out of the hospital. The human is happy and then unhappy. The human is tiring the fuck out of me with all the mood swings.

I've been away because I'm not wanted here and it becomes more and more clear every time I come back.

I shuffle through the wreckage of my loft, looking past the destroyed state of things as I search for my misplaced bottle of bourbon.

//: this stomach bug is the destroyer of worlds. Ffs but at least I got some non-Twitter stuff done last night finally. I'll be around for replies tonight for sure.

He's a cute asshole.

//: sorry I'm back, phone is not charging today ffs

... [Throws flowers in the trash.]

I didn't say you were denying it. I agree, she's not your anything and neither am I. But I am also familiar with how that can feel so I'm trying to help you smooth it over. You're welcome.

He doesn't have a man, either, to be fair. Just ignore his aversion to labels, he's stuck in his ways.

I check my appearance in the mirror with a sigh. One day, maybe, I'll have my life together enough to be the kind of person who irons a shirt. I smooth down my collar before giving up with a shrug.