10/12/2026
I’m in my feral whimsy era, and here’s what I’ve come to know.
Being well-behaved is highly overrated. I’d much rather have a good story to tell.
I’m done making myself smaller to fit into rooms I’ve probably outgrown anyway.
And does every damn decision have to be reasonable?
Sometimes my soul just says, “Oh hell to the yeah!” And that’s good enough for me.
Part of me wants to dance barefoot under the moonlight and sprinkle fairy dust on everyone I meet.
The other part wants to flip over a few tables and maybe flip the bird.
Why can’t I do both?