apparently, it’s March.

just this morning while i walked up to the letterbox, i thought, this is great, the ground’s finally drying up and i won’t have to dodge puddles and mud anymore!

two storms later, returning to the tin can literally walking through ankle-deep water: nevermind.

my kingdom to return to bloody suburbia and concrete fields. i did my time slogging through constant mud, rain, and biting insects seven thousand years ago, it wasn’t romantic and earthy and cottagecore then, and it isn’t now, either.

i would even have the literal criminal neighbours over everything i’ve endured over the past two and a half years, and i feel like a complete fucking moron for ever thinking it was unbearable. you didn’t know what unbearable even was, idiot child.