This User Is A System

what if every Tumblr user suddenly looses their mouse?

this user is addicted to caffeine

writing prompts - angst dialogue prompts (angst. angst romance. etc.) "I'm so mad at you. Actually no, I'm not mad. I'm really fucking disappointed." "Do. Not. Turn. This. On. Me." "Every single fight we've had, I still protect you to my friends. I don't love you any less. I'm just sick of us. Sometimes too much of a good thing can be a bad thing." "No matter the advice I give you, you seem to take it too late." "Please be safe... For the love of god, please be safe..." "I'm sick of my mum always being disappointed in me." "I'm sick of being the excuse." "Sometimes I forget how sad I am...and then when its dark outside and all the people I know are in bed....it hits me that I hate being here." "Hey, humans are social people, don't apologise for asking to hang out." "What happened before...to make you apologise now?" "You know how in movies about Victorian times...there's usually a grand party? Well, you know how when the dances happen its sort of the one time they can talk, I assume thats because people talking outside of the dance could raise rumours...well. You only talk to me while we're dancing. You're worried about what others would think...of me."

this user has an eating disorder

right now i really want to cry. i want someone to hold me close to their chest, so tightly that i can only hear their voice, their heartbeat and their breathing (and my occasional crackling sob). i want to feel someone care for me. because lots of people won’t believe me but that feeling...when someone holds you so tightly, and makes you feel so safe to just break in front of them...that is what someone caring feels like. you can actually feel it. i haven’t felt it in...over a month. i know thats a short period of time but shit, people don’t hug me. people don’t hug me like how he used to. he used to let me cry. he used to just sit there in silence with me because thats what i needed. i didn’t want to interact with people but i didn’t want to be alone. i’m sick of being alone. but i can’t even cry. because i have no one to hold me tightly. no one to murmur that they love me. i have no one. i have nothing. i have myself, and i’m not strong enough.

if someone loved me like i loved reading 18th century law books...

This user is a system host 

i love that my notes range from 0 to 27

Two neighbors share the same birthday. Thus, they celebrate their birthdays together. Every year, they somehow manage to find another person that shares their birthday, so they can afford to gradually make their parties more grandiose.