my spooky colleague just walked into our office and said “what. is that?” and i’ve never seen him so perturbed in our two months working together. his desk is covered in jars and jars of wet specimens and insects with cordyceps and books on strange aliens so i couldn’t even imagine what on my desk could be so questionable so i was like “what is what?” & he said “that” and pointed to my latest antiquing score.
i said, “my little guy????”
(i attempt the trick where the peasant leans down and kisses the ring off the nobleman’s finger) (my mouth is a distinct square shape when i stand back up) yore majethty
I promise you haven’t fucked up as badly as you think you have.
A wise mentor once said to me while I was student teaching: “Did you actually fuck it up, or did it just not go how you expected it to go?”
Life changing words.
More cynical version of this: “Did you actually fuck it up or does someone have a vested interest in making it seem like you did?”
parents will be like “We’re good parents! We did our best!” while their child is alone in their room, terrified of footsteps, unable to conceptualize being loved by anyone.
parents will literally ruin a child’s life a dozen times over and break any hope of ever being seen as a person instead of a burden and instill them with a lifelong aversion to ever taking up space or making noise or using resources or existing and then be like “i know i wasn’t perfect but you must understand i did my best” and demand your forgiveness








