1001 Ways to Embarrass Yourself While Avoiding Injuries

Yay. Today is great. Got internship but left on read by C. Is he even into me? Doesn't seem like it. I wish that my love life was abundant with attractive men who are super interested in me and unafraid of commitment. Is this going to happen? Maybe. Maybe not. IDK. This sucks. Stay tuned for more perfunctory but relatable content.

oh god, I thought to look at you your head was brown, eyes blue. your whiteness was the problem here it made me want to disappear. you were, Mein Gott, so good so right you even asked if you could take a bite so fragile so wondering and I understand if you don't want this again I'm haunted by the thought of you inside me outside is cold, you tried you put it inside my opening I like you I said you said I'm sorry I had a bad breakup it's - "NOT YOU!"I interrupt. I know where this is going! No no no you say not like that you hug me before you leave. wunderbar Wunderbar you are what a lovely lad come again please i'll open up and this time it'll be better, so fun so tight so wet so much to give Mein Gott oh oh OH!

He had a nasal voice that somehow retained its deep timbre, which produced in me a flurry of sensations. He had broad hands, with tapering fingers that were neither elegant or artisan, but very nimble. He had a way with words that made up for his eclectic arrangement of features- a too big smile with extremely straight, pearly white, surgically perfected-looking teeth on ebony skin. He was not too much taller than 5'7 or 5'8 at most, with broad shoulders and a narrowing streamlined torso. I was deeply attracted to him, and his callous manner, well-oiled like the future politician he would become. There was a sense that he was constantly waiting for something to argue with, to expend his charming sleaziness on, his plateau of well-worn platitudes that he had carefully chosen. There was one he was particularly proud of, his controversial opinion on civil war statues. "I mean," he said, lubriciously, palms on the table then clasped together, "I always think of t...

I did not want to be angry at him. Did not want to let him preoccupy my mind, did not want, desperately, him to hate me. Wanted him back by my side, even though he was only here for a brief period. Goodbye, sock boy. Good bye. Goodbye. Goodbye!

Rahul Simran Rohan

i hated your smile crooked white on black straight teeth wavy walk almost gone but almost not it's a good look for a bad person. your absence when i just wanted your love i dont know what u want tell me or not, ignore ignore me fall in love with her. i bet she has a nice slim body which you dream of, her no ass but tits galore i bet you love her or think you do but guess what i loved you too' with my jungle rage passion and my commitment and its not entirely you im angry at its me for letting you do this to me i hate you i hate the you i liked touch her in your dreams in your sleep awake i dont know why i expected any different why do i like you even through hate i hate this feeling good bye fuck you its fucking over

In this increasingly neoliberal world where everyone is trying to run away from their cultures and roots, is it the pertinent move to migrate, metaphorically, back to one's roots? Should I date an Indian boy? Or more specifically, an Indian American boy? Plus, there are so many different sub-ethnicities to navigate, like are they North indian or South Indian? Are they Punjabi, Malayalee, Tamil, Telegu? Do you they even curry? Well, I'll let you know on the next segment of: Indian boyfriend??