a blog for everyone and their mothers

idk what anything means

Chloe Gordon

Life is fucking weird. Mom, if you’re reading this: one, I’m sorry for saying the word “fucking” and two, well, that’s really all. 


Moving on. Life is fucking weird. And not in the way that we eat plants and call it salad. Or that in America we walk / drive on the right side and in London they do it on the left. Well, now that I’m thinking about it, that’s pretty weird too. But, I’m talking about the kind of weird that is inside our minds. Us humans are weird. I’m weird. And since I know myself best I’m going to talk about myself and maybe if we’re lucky it’ll apply to you too, because apparently, in the blogging world at least, that’s the kind of content people like. 

I’m weird. I just took a shower and realized how weird I am. Why did I realize this in the shower? Because the shower is the place I think the most. I think, mentally, I get my most deep and philosophical in the shower. What did I learn just now?  I’m a huge contradiction. I change a lot, year to year, month to month, day to day, and even hour to hour I feel like I am ever changing. As I was showering I realized how many internal thoughts I have that I never share, but I also talk a lot. That’s a contradiction in itself, isn’t it? If I have a lot of internal thoughts, but also talk a lot, what am I even talking about? Nothing interesting, probably. 

Internal thoughts are weird. I’m not sure if anyone is actually reading this, does anyone care about me enough to actually read this website on the internet? I don’t know and I don’t care, the reason I write on here is because I like to look back through my posts and see what I was thinking. So here’s what I’m thinking right now: 

I’m tired but not tired enough to take a nap because I just drank a lot of coffee because I have work in an hour and then I’m driving down to my boyfriend’s home home which is like an hour away. 

I wish I was a better writer because when I started this blog post I had a lot to say and now as I’m writing I don't think any of this makes sense or flows or anything. Which defeats the whole purpose of the post in general because I was just writing about how I talk a lot and have a lot of thoughts… another contradiction? 

I’m currently laying (lying? idk) on my bed in a robe with soaking wet hair wondering where on Earth I thought this post was going. 

I just re-read this post and it makes absolutely no sense but I love it. 





I’m now ending this blog post.