There are still things I want to tell you. Small things, mostly. A plant I finally learned the name of. Something stupid one of my cats did. A sentence I heard on the street that would have made you laugh. A tree somewhere in Berlin carrying fruit, the kind we would have stopped to inspect as if discovering it ourselves. Sometimes something happens and my first thought is still: I have to tell you this. And for one tiny second, you still exist exactly where you used to. Then I remember. There is nowhere to send it anymore.

Cant stop thinking about this lmaoooo

Good morning Genova

this seems kinda ridiculous, convince me not to delete

TGIF

Booty small or is it the dysmorphia? (I‘m serious)

I so badly wanted to love this, but I hated it.

Morning ☁️