cutieswagusa2004

Alec loves this, and by association, so do I. Stonewall Kitchen Wild Maine Blueberry Jam to be specific (I think. 89% sure, actually, 94% sure. Where would I have gotten the name from?). Yes, it says jam, but he called it preserves so like shut the fuck up okay? This is the man I love. He told me about it on a phone call as he was grocery shopping. I love to hear him speak. I loved the way he said "preserves" I love him so much. I got some at my local grocery and it was so yummy (4.5/5 stars because I felt a little fat and sad after all the sourdough and jam I ate). He's so smart. He loves all the right things. I love Alec. I love blueberry preserves. I love him and his blueberry jam so fucking much. I'm going to masturbate.

I'm not really interested in it being on my body, per se, but I like the thought of it on a lover. I want to pet it. I think if you really care about me, you'd let me play with your pubes as we rest. If you're a true lover, surely, it's soothing to caress someone's chest and feel the hair there. I want to reach into your pants and twirl your pubes around my fingers because you love me, and I can.

Hair is everything. I touch my hair for comfort and when other people invite me to touch theirs, I feel frightened at the thought of such trespass but also giddy and excited because I simply love the feeling of hair. I love to run my hands through it, smell it, chew on it. I love hair. Beautiful stuff.

One of the most beautiful physical acts on earth. When I daydream, it's often about someone's tongue in my mouth, and when I think about sex, I can't seem to separate our mouths in my head. I find it extremely desirable being completely intertwined and tethered to another person by the mouth. During sex, it's impractical, maybe tedious, yes, but I love to kiss with tongue, and I want to do it all the time. I want to die with a tongue in my mouth. I'm only living for a tongue in my mouth. FRENCH KISS 4EVER.

My mom’s favorite cake, and by association, my favorite cake. I only had it the once and she hand-fed it to me. That was enough. I can’t seem to find it anywhere. It eludes me. Mom’s favorite. Love you mommy.

My most pulled tarot. Fills me with dread every time I see it. What’s next for me? How much does it hurt? What weapon will you use? I’m drawn to it anyway, the familiarity. 3.5/5 for the suffering.

My childhood was beautiful because my dad pirated this game for my nintendo dsi. He used an R4 cartridge with a micro sd slot. He did it at his desk job. He made me a happy girl, now my closet is the heaviest load I carry. Excellent game. I still play.