hello

• when I cut a slice of pie I feel like I’m killing it, the gooey sweetness is blood
• when I toast bread I feel like the bread is pleading for it’s life, and the crumbs are the ashes of what could have been (this is why I don’t toast bread very often I kind of feel sad)
• when I dip cookies into milk I feel like I’m drowning them in the frozen arctic of milk. The bubbles make this feel really realistic
• when I take the ranch dressing out of the fridge I feel like I’m taking him out at the wrong time and he was having a good conversation with mustard/ketchup/jelly
• sometimes I think the stove top, oven, microwave, toaster, and anything that warms have their own club called the heating club
• the only one that excluded from the club is the fridge because it does the opposite of warming, so he’s like the ~outcast
• so I’m extra nice to the fridge because I feel sorry for him
• when I open the curtains I feel like I’m separating two really good friends 
• I make sure my shoes are always together because if they’re not then each of them feel like george when he lost fred
• when I clean the trash can I feel like I can then only put in clean trash
• sometimes I think the mirror has a personality disorder, and is trying to find ~itself
• there is more but I should just stop now