suffering trauma sucks. like i just had all that other shit under control. like i don’t know guys. i got better and worse after hearing my manager lost 4 liters of blood internally and had 3 surgeries and got 30 staples in the surgery wound. like actually saving a life sounds so rewarding. it’s not. it’s terrifying. it's having the memory of my manager on his phone, calling his wife while struggling with the pain of being shot in the stomach. it’s saying “i’m sorry” to him over and over on the phone with a dispatcher, trying to be clear and helpful because i don’t want my manager to die. it’s being swarmed by 10 cops and asking them “can i ride with him in the ambulance?” and them telling me no, i have to answer some questions. it’s handing my manager’s keys and phone to the closest cop and saying please take these, they’re his, i don’t want him to lose them. it’s sitting in the back of a cop car for over an hour, terrified and shaking and unable to stop crying. it’s going home that night and crying. it’s finally passing out at 6 and then waking up at 10 and having a headache and crying more. it’s worrying. and worrying more. and worrying more, until i’m able to see my manager in the hospital, and he looks weak and frail and human. and he’s laughing and joking but he’s in pain, and tired, and what can i do now? nothing. and he gets to go home, and heal, and everyone tells me i did everything right, and it doesn’t feel good and i don’t feel proud and all i want is to rewind time and hope he doesn’t go outside for a smoke break and see that kid trying to steal his car. but i can’t. i can’t.

never kill yourself bc one day you could be alone in the house after smoking a blunt and be super high watching midwest safety and eating pizza rolls

ITS MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!! IM 23!!!!!!

so i work at donatos (pizza chain that originated in Ohio, but they’re all over the us now) and we get SLAMMED during holidays because, of course we do. we’re relatively busy during the dinner rush (5-6) and i finish making a salad and go to put it in the little fridge we have up front that holds our 20 oz and 2 liter pops. my coworker and gm are helping customers up front, and i hear some dude who’s EASILY pushing 60 yell “DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHY I WOULD BE FRUSTRATED?!?!??” and i immediately think “well, he’s clearly in the wrong here” and walk back to my station. my gm breaks it down later, because this dude yells for 15 minutes before finally taking his order and leaving; this guy was threatening to SUE US, because the total in-store was $3 more than the total in our app. dude pushing 60. yelling at a woman who is at least 34 years younger than him because of $3!!!!! so obviously i text all this to the gc i have with my sister and my parents and i got a great response back:

the title is a joke but i just spent the last three minutes texting my best friend about how scat porn death fetish by butchers harem is maybe my favorite current song because of the phrase “i crack a fat for gore”. and then i proceeded to tell xem that i also LOVE open you up, snuff porn holocaust, and blood fetish (as well as your my stump and eat my rotten meat, i ❤️ you mc mangina) and then told xem about the different mcs in butchers harem and i could practically HEAR the agonized sigh they let out all the way in texas. my personal opinion because i’m a newer fan, i think mc mangina and mc cumblood are neck and neck for 1. best stage name and 2. favorite flow

tom fulp please accept my friend request 😭

going to work before pain meds kick in on my period should get me a Purple Heart or something