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aforrestofstuff · 4 years

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I'd like to know if you have any cooking skills headcanons!! Like, from who's able to make a absolute meal to who burns microwaved instant noodles.

I’ve done a few individual headcanons about cooking before, but I think it’s time for a refresher. You could call this... the main course.

Okay, enough of that bullshit. Here’s the hcs. Thanks for your ask, anon! ❤️❤️💞

Disclaimer: this shit is crack as fuck because I have very strong feelings about cooking lmfao. FOH don’t interact.

Tornado of Terror: She’d find a way to burn ice cream, honestly. She tries so hard (by god she tries) but her meals always come out as a convoluted mess with ingredients that have no reason being together. She eats her steaks well done and boils hamburgers. It’s a nightmare. She doesn’t really spend too much time in the kitchen, however, because she knows she sucks at cooking and because of this, makes 90% of her diet consist of takeout. But if she did spend more of her day cooking, she’d probably discover the recipe to meth accidentally. It’s that bad.

Silverfang: Stubborn old grandpa way of cooking. He’s got a handful of recipes that have been passed down for generations and he’s gonna carry those fuckers to his grave. When Garou was living at the dojo, the little bastard would try to make some changes to these recipes and Bang had to will every molecule in his arthritis-riddled body to not RKO this kid (not really, Bang wouldn’t hurt a fly). But I digress. He’s a decent cook, knows all the fundamentals and all of that shit.

Atomic Samurai: Can’t cook or bake for shit although he, of course, talks himself up like he can. The extent of his cooking knowledge is only within the realm of “shit you can roast over a campfire when your cheap ass can’t scrape together enough coin to pay the electricity bill”. But now that he’s got that S-Class paycheck and three other disciples to freeload off of, they pretty much cater to his every food-related need. He’s useless in the kitchen. Utterly fucking useless.

Child Emperor: Doesn’t know how to cook (little bastard ain’t even tall enough to reach the stove imo) but luckily he’s got that PHAT BRAIN so he can easily just build a Gordon Ramsey bot 3000 to replace his incompetence in the kitchen. His diet consists of Dino nuggets and microwaveable noodles so it’s not like he’s doing the world a great disservice by not learning how to cook properly.

Metal Knight: Same as Child Emperor except he’s a rich bastard and programs his bots to make that fancy shit with only the finest ingredients. He’s got enough cash from doing black market tech trades and building up his robo-army that this motherfucker could snort caviar for fun. He’s a real pompous asshole about it.

King: His mom taught him to cook a few things, nothing serious. He’s one of those dudes that doesn’t really know how to make much, but the few dishes that he does know how to cook are fucking BOMB. He’s got a cast iron skillet for making pancakes and everything, bitch is already halfway to being a chef himself. Other than that, however, he’s a ramen monster. His blood is practically pre-packaged bone broth.

Zombieman: I’ve said this in a previous hc but he’s a damn good cook. One problem though: he only knows how to make single servings of everything because he eats alone almost all the time. He specializes in meats. Bitch is a carnivore. He bought himself a set of those 500-dollar butcher knives so he can carve up cuts like a monster. He hemorrhages cash into fancy wood chips so he can get that smoky flavor juuuuust right. He’s got an Outdoor Chef setup on his patio. My mans is living the DREAM.

Drive Knight: He can eat but does he really need to? His cooking expertise is popping a new battery in. There you go.

Pig God: Oh my god if this man’s kitchen isn’t Michelin-Star quality. He eats a lot and he cooks a lot, it’s only natural. He’s got an indoor grill and pot chandelier and buys industrial-sized buckets of pickles and roast beef by the cow and— okay he just has a lot of food, alright? And he’s got that PHAT S-Class paycheck so my boy probably has a whole walk-in fridge just to put all the fucking food he eats. Bonus points if he hires a dishboy to work and a contractor to implement a three-sink dish station with “Clean-Rinse-Sanitize” stickers slapped on the steel, lol. But yeah, he cooks for 500 people at a time because he eats enough for 500 people at a time. Gotta maintain that figure, you know what I’m saying?

Superalloy Darkshine: He has. Oh my god— he has a full shelf dedicated to just. DOZENS OF JARS of whey protein. He has two blenders: one for fruit smoothies and one for protein shakes. His kitchen? Spotless. He knows how to cook and he eats like a bodybuilder (because he is one, duh) so he’s got that fridge STOCKED at all times. He cleans like he’s getting paid for it because nothing feels better than wiping down a gas stove until that bitch is spotless. However, his taste is garbage. He can throw down in the kitchen but does it taste good? No. Sometimes the ultra-healthy alternative to something isn’t always the greatest. He’s grown accustomed to putting zucchini in his cakes and almost damn well likes the texture of it, but don’t invite this guy to the potluck because he WILL show up with a vegetable nightmare that’s sure to make even vegans gag. Sorry bud, but nobody likes soy bacon.

Watchdog Man: furry ass.

Flashy Flash: I’ve said this before in a previous hc, but he’s pescatarian. He grew up on a coastal town before being sold of to the ninja village like a goddamned carpet and now fish is the only meat he eats. His cooking ability is about as good as one would expect from a homesless ninja. Like Atomic Samurai, he can throw it down over the campfire and still find a way to make a decent dish (in both presentation and taste) despite having limited knowledge and resources to work with. Bitch can whip up a five-star meal with some branches, a fish, and half a carrot like it was second nature. That’s about it though. He’s useless in an actual kitchen.

Genos: It’s canon. He’s a housewife. He only knows how to make the select few dishes that play an integral part in Saitama’s diet, though (because Genos can eat but he doesn’t really need to, so he only does it when he and Saitama are sharing a meal). Those dishes include things like: actual garbage. He cooks shit food. It’s not his fault. Saitama just eats like a fucking twat. There’s rats that live in the dumpster outside the restaurant I work in that have a better diet than him. Genos just works with what the poor bastard’s got and has gained a pretty mediocre grasp on cooking because of it. If he wanted to, though, he could easily be the best chef in all the land. Too bad he’s more focused on being an ultra-powerful speed demon.

Metal Bat: Tries his absolute best to cook healthy meals for him and Zenko when he almost always resorts to just popping a frozen pizza in the oven and calling it a day. I’ve said this before in a previous hc, but he eats his shit BURNT. Bitch like his steak well done, his yolks grey, and his chicken vaporized. The only exception to this is sushi because there really is no other way to enjoy it other than having it raw. Trust me, though. If there was a way to burn the fuck out of sashimi while still having it be sashimi, he’d find a way to do it and like it. But yeah, as I said: he sucks ass at cooking. He’s tried the tutorials, he’s bought the skillets, he’s sharpened the knives, but he just can’t fucking do it.

Tanktop Master: Same as Superalloy. They bond over gross-ass ultra-healthy recipes that only they enjoy. The Tanktop Gang loves him but they always kindly refuse to eat over at his house because they know he’s gonna try to make them ingest a broccoli loaf or some shit. He’s not too strict about his diet, though. He’ll chill out and have a pizza every once and a while, but only when he’s hanging out with the homies.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: He has a job in prison where he helps out in the kitchen for seventy-five cents an hour, but that’s about the extent of it. He’s got the bare basics down and could put together a decent meal for date night if he really tried (and had a damn kitchen to work with). On top of that, he can throw down some tasty prison food recipes, hand-crafted from the brick box itself. Ramen pad Thai, anyone?

Amai Mask: he’s rich as fuck, why does he need to cook? Bitch hired a chef and now all he does it drink skim milk and eat food from the top shelf. He couldn’t fry an egg if his life depended on it. Poor bastard doesn’t even know what a whisk is. And don’t even get me started on how much of a slob he is. The ten-minute process of making a single plate of spaghetti will have his kitchen in such a disgusting state that it’ll take him and a trusty Mister Clean Magic Eraser five hours just to clean it up. That is, if he even has the basic human decency to pick up after himself. He’ll probably just hire someone to do for him and then tip them a crisp 100-dollar bill for their troubles, only to make an even worse mess tomorrow.

Iaian: I’ve said this before in a previous hc, but yes: he can cook. It’s nothing special. He’s got a suburban dad sense of cooking where he, like King, can only make a select few dishes but makes those dishes taste magical. He’s got 0 utensils and shit kitchen to work with (because Kami’s place is probably like, centuries old on account of him still being a Samurai), but boy can Iaian whip up a feast like no other despite all that. It’s all protein-packed flavor bombs that look simple in comparison to, say, Zombieman or Metal Knight’s food, but it still tastes good all the same. Kama eats off of his plate all the time and it used to annoy him but they’ve grown so close that they might as well share forks at this point.

Okamaitachi: Can’t really cook, but they are a baking god. I don’t know much about baking but I know they’ve got a cupboard dedicated to their plethora of sourdough starters. They buy yeast by the pound and make enough bread to feed entire armies some days. Whatever the gang doesn’t eat, they donate it to the local homeless shelter and make it a habit to go out of their way performing good deeds that don’t always involve sword fighting (something Kami insists he instilled into them via his teachings— which is bullshit. Kama is just naturally good-hearted and sweet).

Bushidrill: Can’t cook or bake for shit but like Atomic Samurai and Flash, can throw it down on the campfire. Don’t let this man near any turkeys or pigs because he will spitroast the fuck out of them.

Fubuki: Okay, not only is she a great cook but she’s as dogmatic as a coked-out head chef. She and the Blizzard Group sometimes cook together in her massive kitchen (she poured all of her measly paycheck into it because by god, if her apartment doesn’t have a kitchen fit for a chef then it’s not worth living in), and she’ll be barking orders like a damn crow. She’s got the two-grand knife set, cast-iron everything, bronze accents on the sink, and the ability to deglaze a pan without starting a fire. She’s a natural. If she cooks for you, then that’s how you know she likes you. All in all, her food tastes and looks great. She’s a bit low on funds on account of being only Class-B, so she sometimes takes little shortcuts when plating her dishes, like using celery leaves in place of parsley and all that jazz.

Saitama: I’ve already said that his diet is absolute shit and part of that is due to being poor, but I will show mercy and say that he’s a decent cook. He only makes what he knows he’s gonna like and doesn’t leave any room for experimentation unless his budget allows it (which isn’t often). His kitchen only has the bare essentials. Genos has offered to buy him more equipment and even renovate the damn thing for him but Saitama refuses each time because then he’d have a bigass kitchen just for making a poor man’s omurice, and that would be a waste. His talent, though? Making a perfect omelet. He can fold the egg like a sheet with no tears and no brown spots. It tastes heavenly.

Mumen Rider: Ultra-safe in the kitchen. He doesn’t even own a knife sharpener because he’s clumsy enough to know he’ll cut himself the moment he even tries to use it. His pot handles all have coverings and he’s watched all of the food safety and fire safety videos out there. He could give a goddamned seminar on it. Food-wise, he’s a decent home cook. Nothing special. He does, however, share Superalloy and Tanktop’s nasty habit of over healthy-ing everything to oblivion and making it a tasteless, vegetative mess. It doesn’t matter if you invite him to the potluck or not because he’ll bring a cauliflower pizza anyway and y’all better fucking enjoy it or he’ll start crying.

Sonic: The same as Flashy Flash, minus the pescatarianism. He’d butcher a pig without blinking an eye, and often uses his katana in cooking (even though it poses like, 87 different safety hazards and is most definitely health violation). He can forage quite well and has taken a liking to wild mushrooms and berries over the years. It’s gotten so natural to him that he now knows by heart the specific time of year in which the wild berries are ripest, and which species of salmon inhabit certain streams on any given day.

Garou: Would burn water. End of story. His cooking is so bad and dangerous that everyone thinks he’s an arsonist when he really just starts fires on accident. Don’t let this fucker near a stove, for the love of god.

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conversationswithhank · 7 years

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CLICK HERE for more in depth information on Portugal’s decriminalization policy.

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Pai: (coming to the dinner table) Where is Molly?

Me: (deep exhausted sigh) She ate already so I gave her baby crack.

Hank: (diving into his meal) What is baby crack?

Pai: The iPad.

Me: Crack is a form of cocaine, a highly addictive drug. Molly is highly addicted to bouncing around the iPad. If we were to give her unlimited access she would forget to eat and forgo sleep just like a person sick with addiction so your papa and I refer to the iPad as baby crack.

Hank: So crack is a drug?

Me: Yes.

Hank: How many drugs are there?

Pai: Millions.

Hank: Have you ever done drugs?

Me: Who are you asking?

Hank: Both of you.

Pai: I have never done any drugs that were not prescribed by my doctor.

Hank: I don’t mean medicine, papa. I mean the drugs people are worried about.

Pai: My answer stands.

Me: In my 37 years of life I have tried marijuana three times and each time years apart. Twice pot made my world spin until I puked my guts out and the third time I just took a nap, so that made it a rather expensive nap I could have otherwise had for free.

Hank: Drugs are expensive?

Me: They are an expensive vice or if you become addicted to drugs they become expensive for your health and wellbeing.

Hank: This is what I don’t understand. People talk about drugs and then they talk about addicting.

Me: Addiction.

Hank: Right, so some people do drugs and are not addiction…

Me: Addicted.

Hank: Right and some people do drugs and they are like the parking lot men out on the street. (In Portugal one way to hustle drug money is to “park cars” asking for a few coins to keep an eye on your car so that it doesn’t get robbed or damaged. They also “help” you park by directing you to an open space.)

Pai: May I?

Me: Please.

Pai: Your mother has a very different experience with drugs and drug culture than I do, but what I want to say is for the millions of drugs in the world there are varying intensities. There are some drugs that are the same as drinking alcohol and there are others that will erase you from your life and your family and after you are so ill that you will for the rest of your life struggle.

Hank: So crack is an erasing drug.

Pai: Yes. There are some drugs that once you cross the line to try them there is no going back. You are lost to the disease of addiction.

Hank: And mama has had friends die from drugs.

Me: (nodding solemnly) Many.

Hank: Your friend just died.

Me: Recently I have lost two friends. Growing up I would always say when I was offered drugs that I wasn’t interested because if I ever tried drugs I would never stop using them. Saralee first tried heroin when we were 15 years old and she never could stop. This really shaped my personal choices. Her beautiful, bright, brilliant soul was lost in addiction. Same with my friend Brett. He did his best, they both did, but their addiction to getting high, emotionally and physically, was too strong and they both died too young and they both had kids. They were loved, so loved, they were parents and they were powerless against their disease. You should never judge a person who has an addiction, they are ill. No one intends to become so dependent on drugs that they chose an uncomfortable life divided from family and friends. That is why it is so important to ask questions, Hank, and have conversations like we are doing now.

Hank: But why aren’t those drugs never made or like not given, are they given?

Pai: People take drugs to escape, to feel better, because you will never feel as good as you do when you are high on a drug. The trade off is that you will spend your life trying to stay high. That cuts you off from life.

Me: And life isn’t easy, but it’s worth it.

Pai: Drugs are bought and sold so it is a business and very profitable, but because of the nature of drugs and that taking drugs then leads to a public health crisis, they are illegal.

Me: In Portugal drugs are illegal, but decriminalized. You can have up to a certain amount of any drug on your person at anytime and it is still illegal but you won’t be punished with more than a fine.

Hank: Like a parking ticket kind of fine?

Me: Exactly. Distributing, selling, trafficking large quantities of drugs are still a criminal offense, but partaking of drugs is no longer a crime in Portugal. At anytime you can walk into the hospital or a health center or a police station and ask for help and you will be given treatment, doctor’s care, counseling. In Portugal they don’t make the person with the addiction a criminal. We understand that the person is ill and illness should never be considered illegal.

Hank: Who would think that?

Pai: A lot of people.

Hank: What?

Me: There are almost as many people sitting in jail right now in the United States of America for a marijuana offense as there are citizens of Portugal.

Hank: WHAT?

Pai: Seriously?

Me: Yup.

Pai: How do you know these things?

Me: I read. According the the ACLU something like above 8 million people incarcerated for a marijuana offense in the US and Portugal’s population is about that, right?

Pai: Around 10 million, I think.

Hank: 8 million people are like in jail?

Me: Yes, sir.

Hank: But…

Me: America chose to literally wage a war on drugs while Portugal chose to decriminalize and focus on public health and outreach.

Pai: And life got better for Portugal and it’s people. When you provide sanctuary and a way out it shows respect and instead of preaching drugs are bad and wrong we learn that drugs lead to disease, illness, deformity, mental incapacity, isolation and death and at any point if you find yourself out of control you have help. In Portugal you aren’t a criminal and you don’t have to hide.

Hank: But there are drugs that will make you a junky and there are drugs that won’t.

Me: Let’s not think of it that way, your pai (dad) said it best: all drugs have different intensities. The intensities are not what you should focus on although that knowledge is very important. The biggest risk factor other than overdose is addiction and addiction is a disease.

Pai: Alcohol is a very powerful drug that can also be highly addictive, but it is socially accepted so therefore not illegal.

Me: The difference between recreation and addiction is as simple as need vs want. Do I need to eat an entire bag of jellybeans or do I want to eat an entire bag of jellybeans.

Pai: Do I need to drink a beer with dinner or do I want to drink a beer with dinner.

Me: I have an addiction.

Hank: You do?

Me: Yes. What happens if I don’t have a coffee when I wake up?

Hank: OH! You, you…

Pai: Are a monster.

Me: Truth.

Hank: You yell and say you can’t handle things and then you get dressed and leave.

Me: I abandon all of you! I get dressed. I walk out of this house. I walk down the street and into a café with €0.60 and I drink a coffee before I even attend to the needs of my family! If I do not drink a coffee my mood is erratic and irritable, I get a splitting headache and I am not able to function. I am addicted to coffee. Now this addiction won’t kill me. I could stop drinking coffee and it would be a miserable week, but I wouldn’t die. I NEEED the coffee I do not WANT the coffee.

Pai: Tell Hank about your first thought in the morning. That is a better example.

Me: Right. Hank, I used to smoke cigarettes.

Hank: (chewing) I know this.

Me: I started smoking in 1994 and I quite smoking in 2003, but I would occasionally cheat until about 2005 and then after I had you I never ever touched a cigarette again, BUT every single morning when I open my eyes my first though isn’t how much I love your papa or you or Molly. My first thought isn’t what I need to do that day or even that I need to use the bathroom. Hank, I haven’t smoked a cigarette in over twelve years and my first thought is always, every single morning, “GAWD I WANT A CIGARETTE!”

Hank: Really?

Me: Truth.

Pai: Addiction, even if you break the pattern and change you habits, pledge and pray and think you have over come it is always with you.

Me: It never goes away. My body isn’t physically dependent on cigarettes anymore like it is on coffee, but I will always be addicted even if I never smoke again. I loved smoking cigarettes, but I know they will shorten my life and I love my life so every day I make a better choice. Never judge someone who suffers from an addiction. Addiction is powerful and often beyond someone’s control at that particular moment.

Pai: You will have a lot of choices as you grow up and it is our hope that we have many more conversations like this one in the future.

Me: Always talk to us or another adult in our tribe about whatever makes you curious: Pot, Booze, Sex, Stonehenge, Stock Car Racing, LDS, Onomatopoeias, Sacred Bundles, Meth, Hairless Cats…

Hank: (giggle snorts) I have seen those on the Internet. They are creepy.

Me: And hypoallergenic.

Pai: It is my greatest wish that you chose not to ever use intense drugs or suffer from an addiction stronger than coffee.

Me: Or jellybeans.

Hank: But wait… so how do you get better if you have an addiction in America if drugs are a crime? Doing drugs makes you a criminal, right?

Me: (sad) Yes.

Hank: Then how do you get help now that Obama Care is gone?

Me: Obama Care didn’t insure that you would be given drug treatment, Hank.

Pai: Portugal is unique and our initiatives have bettered our nation and our people, but our choices aren’t universal.

Hank: But how do you get help in America?

Me: Treatment opportunities depend on each individual state and how much you can afford or your family can afford for treatment. There is help, but it isn’t a national plan like it is here.

Hank: If a person is sick why is it about being able to afford treatment? Why doesn’t America become like Portugal and have healthcare for everyone?

Me: (pausing with my dinner fork in mid rise to my mouth wondering how to explain complicated, baffling, capitalistic politics to my nine year old) That is an excellent question. Maybe someday you will go over to America and help change things.

Pai: For now be grateful to grow up here.

Hank: Oh, I am. Portugal just makes sense. (stuffing his face with salad)

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#Portugal #honest answers #honest conversation #honest parenting #honest question #drug #decriminalization #Public health #addiction #the disease of addiction #nine years old #want vs need #war on drugs #two culture kids #two culture family #conversations with hank #what would you say #drug abuse #curosity

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niners123 · 7 years

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Random Stream of Consciousness

I have insecurities. I’m flawed and filled with self-doubt. I have a deflated bubble of self-esteem and I’m never gonna feel like I’m enough. I always have that lurking thought that people are talking about me behind my back. Family or not.

I’m a handful to deal with. It’s not easy for me to open up in person (so writing has become one of my outlets), and I get embarrassed easily. I can be the happiest and bubbliest girl one day, and the gloomiest and most frustrated the next.

I talk and think about the most random things that don’t necessarily make sense, like how ironic it is that doctors are meant to save lives, and yet they’re probably ones who get the least amount of sleep and therefore have some of the least amount of energy, and let alone still have to conduct an open-heart surgery while they’re only half-awake. And things like whether or not birds pee. And what the life of this Uber driver’s like. I think about how we’re losing sleep and working our assess off over things we probably don’t need in the future, only to get a fucking piece of paper.

I do weird things like not answering someone’s question when they’re talking to me until I finish the song that I’m humming inside my head. Or, for some reason, think that I’ve been saying my thoughts out loud, when actually they’re all just silent thoughts taking place inside my mind. And then, I eventually end up voicing out loud the later parts of a sentence that was in my head.

I also get mildly anxious about the thought that there’s still so much good music that I haven’t listened to. Music. One of the best gifts we’ve been blessed with. Same goes for movies and TV shows. I love shows that involve a decent amount of murder and drugs. I love how Breaking Bad transformed a cancer-struck Chemistry teacher to a master meth-cook. I love how How to Get Away with Murder involved law students hiding and burning a dead body. And I love Narcos for simply existing.

I have a lot of regrets but I still look forward to checking every single thing off of my bucket list. I like to take my time and see where the road takes me. And I barely have any fixed plans about my future. Which is what worries me. I worry a lot about what I haven’t done. I always feel confused. I don’t feel like I have a purpose in life. I feel like I’m lagging behind and that I can’t catch up with the world. I feel like I’m lost on a road that forks out to different paths leading into the oblivion.

Sometimes, I worry a lot about big global problems. I worry about all the malnourished children, who don’t have parents to care for them. I worry about the children who have to take care of their younger siblings all on their own. I worry about the hopeless parents who can’t find the right job to help raise their children. I worry about the children who feel abandoned amidst wars that adults involved them in without their consent. I worry about all the innocent lives lost. I worry about the injustice that happens, like letting a murderer roam around freely, while the victims’ loved ones are left living in fear inside the prison of their own minds. I worry about people who have lost all hope in redeeming themselves. And I especially worry about everyone who has to live in the stigma-filled, belittling world that we’re in now.

But I love to laugh at nothing and everything at the same time. I love talking about the few places I’ve been to and the many places I wanna travel to. I love listening to other people talk about themselves because the attention wouldn’t be on me. I love how there are easier ways to go about certain things, like saying “I’m fine” and “I’m good”, instead of saying “I’m not fine. I lost someone so important to me and I regret not taking all the opportunities I had to spend time with him and I don’t know how I’ll ever rid myself of self-hatred. and I find myself giving up so easily in everything, and now I. Just. Don’t. Know.”

But I love being around positive energy most of the time. We don’t even have to talk about anything. Simply being with each other’s enough to spread the positivity into my being. Other times, I hate everything and everyone. And wish the world would just swallow me whole. And to jump off a plane without a parachute because life just tends to become too much sometimes. But then there are times when I don’t want to disappear, and instead just rather find my own safe haven. A place where I can escape reality for a while, while still being alive. I want to find a place, so high up, that the things on the ground look like a vague map. A treehouse, perhaps, that’s so close to the sky, that it gives me the illusion that I’m escaping and only going TOWARDS heaven, but not “to”, so that when I’ve had a feeling of rebirth, I can easily come back down and start afresh.

I dream of a world where all kinds of good people are accepted and treated the same by fellow good people. I dream of a world where children don’t have to be afraid of the possibilities of their future. I dream of a world where no one has to be afraid walking around town by themselves, without the worry of being killed or raped or robbed or abused. I dream of a world where people don’t have to hide their true identity because it “offends” others, or is “unnatural”, or may “provoke children to TURN gay”. I dream of a world where people lift each other up instead of bringing them down. I dream of a world where there’s a cure for cancer and all other kinds of disease. I dream of a world where people strive to do things because it genuinely makes them happy, instead of having the mindset of “because I have no choice”.

Talk to me about your dreams and what you think your purpose is in life, because I’m still trying to look for mine. Talk to me about unsolved mysteries and what you’re truly passionate about. Talk to me about what you need help with, so that we can all help a brotha out.

I’m not a very spontaneous person, but there are many things I’d be down for (as long as I can afford them). Solo-flighting at cinemas is what I do every few months. I love going to concerts and listening to the crowd sing along to the artists’ songs. The moment when it’s just the beating drum and the many different people, seemingly turning into one united organism, singing gives me chills down my spine. Invite me out to museums, where I can learn more and contemplate about how we’ve come to how we are right now. Bring me to high places, where I can see the view filled with blurry bright lights. Or where I can jump off 30 feet into the ocean.

Let’s go foodtripping and roadtripping and all sorts of tripping. Let’s explore the good food of all cultures and decide what makes us vomit and what makes us want to eat it for the rest of our lives. I wanna go to all the music and art festivals so we can unleash our pretentious little selves, and pretend to comment on certain pieces that make us feel more cultured than we actually are. Let’s not forget the amusement parks. Let me go on all the roller coasters and the ride that goes up and down. But don’t you dare make me go on the non-rollercoaster, spinning rides that make you feel like you’re being thrown into the heavens and violently dragged back.

Chocolates. Pizza. Lasagna. Carbonara. Sushi. Cake.

#thoughts #myself #life #random #everything #anything #nothing

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