What If Every Tumblr User Suddenly Looses Their Mouse?

I was working on a possible comic and-

He's still there

I erased him but..

He won't leave

He'll never leave.

do you think famous poets looked at what they wrote like an hour later and went, "yo this is kinda cringe-" or is that a new development in poetry?

I'm never sure if people believe me when I say I'm empathic because I can be quite the dink. But just look at me. I'm a doofus. I just put my large stuffed animals (whom I always sleep with) on the ground, gave em a pillow and wrapped em in a balnket.

I have now officially used tumblr (and YouTube comment sections) to build up my self confidence. I'm now half way between a cuck and a god, there is no better way to exist than now.

I love the fact that I’m using this cesspool of chaos and showers to build up my self confidence. 

My inspirations for making all my stories:

I'm doing an action and that action could be a story!

I'm listening to a song and that song could be a story!

I'm feeling an emotion and that emotion could be a story!

I'm copeing using escapism!

I like this story and can't get it out of my head!

I have an issues with this story and want to fix it!

I can't sleep!

I'm tired lol, now I gotta go study

Sometimes I open up Google and get whiplash because I hadn't closed the incognito tab from last night

The most heart warming thing just happened to me at 7/11. It was the usual heartwarming story of a person at 7/11 saying something nice or doing something nice. Infact, it was sort of the opposite. I was paying for my snacks and I don't have a rewards number and I will most likely never have one. Then the guy behind me put his number in. He said it was because there's money to be saved sometimes but I really didn't care if there was or wasn't. It just felt real. It wasnt some saint giving me an extra taquito, it was just real. It was just two guys in a 7/11. Maybe it was the frugalness, maybe it was that he reminded me of so many threadbare men who've been I fluencial in my life. I wish him all the best, I hope he has a good day.

I sat there in an almost peaceful silence, if not for the thoughts swishing back and forth in my mind like a broken washing machine, I'd have thought it tranquil. I felt myself choke, I choke and all the thoughts I couldn't swallow. If I felt any better I would have made a joke there, I'm sure you can fill in the blanks. I tried adjusting, maybe the thoughts would disappear like that. They didn't, they bubbled menacingly, they twirled in circle infornt of my eyes. A shuddering gasp for air broke the silence. And then another. A few more as my vision blurred in the dim lighting. It didn't sound like me, rather, like someone else was there, someone else's desperate grabbing for air, someone else's breif and lonely wimper, not my own. I tried to gather myself, I didn't even know what I was crying for. I needed something to block out the quiet cries, before they became racking sobs. Something to put the incessant thoughts to rest, if only for a while.

best spot in class? back corner, farthest from the teachers desk. why? surrounded by less people, and you can get away with more.