thecoolestlei

[thecoolestlei]

But what if they feel left out

sometimes it's OK to skip a song you like when u don't feel like it at that moment. u r not hurting its feelings

[thecoolestlei]

Was (and I’m not joking when I say this) BANNED from saying this in my house hold/around my mother for like 2 years

love saying "question mark?" out loud when I'm talking about something i'm unsure of

[thecoolestlei]

Yall see it too right?

[thecoolestlei]

I’ve been doom scrolling too much recently so here are things I love/ am grateful for:

When it smells like spring outside but doesn’t smell like pollen.

When a baby I don’t know waves/smiles at me in public.

When a little girl I don’t know compliments me.

When my favorite YouTubers have uploaded so I get to binge watch long form content.

When I wake up from a nap in the car.

When I get in my bed and the covers are just warm enough that I’m cozy without sweating.

When the ends of my jeans meet up with my converses without bunching, even if I’m sitting.

When an outfit goes as planned.

When my house smells like baked goods.

When I make someone laugh.

When I pick a new playlist and it has all of the songs I love on it.

When I laugh so hard my side hurts.

When I get butterflies.

When I have a crush.

When my curls are super bouncy.

When it’s freezing cold outside and I step into a hot shower.

When I take a sip of hot tea and the heat travels through my body.

When I have a headache and someone rubs my face.

When someone gently plays with my hair.

When someone else had the same niche experience as me.

When Sundays actually feel like Sunday.

When I wake up to sun streaming through the window.

When I finish a book super fast.

When I get to fall asleep after a long day in my feet.

When I walk into my favorite summer camp.

When my perfume still lingers at the end of the day.

When someone draws a (appropriate) doodle on my hand while I’m working.

When something makes me so excited I can only point and make weird noises.

When my sheets smell like detergent.

When I pick up a book and it smells like old paper.

When I see you.

[thecoolestlei]

Sorry can’t shave, it’s for Pharaoh Protection

Me, age 10, doing an essay on the pharaoh’s curse for school: huh. So this archeologist that died and everyone thought it was because he disturbed the pharaoh’s tomb actually died because he used a rusty razor to shave and it infected a mosquito bite. I can see how people could come to that conclusion, but it is a bit silly

Me, today, shaving my mosquito bite-ridden legs: I must tread carefully lest I incur the pharaoh’s wrath

[thecoolestlei]

Having the urge to do Christian veiling while living in a majority Baptist area that believes it is outdated<<<<<<

[thecoolestlei]

You know your insta posts eat when one of your friends asks when you’re posting your next photo dump

[thecoolestlei]

Convincing myself he wants me so that I don’t lose my mind

(He is educated on current events of the world, a feminist, and is emotionally intelligent)

[thecoolestlei]

Me everyday

jokes to make after failure that aren’t self-deprecating:

I’m the best to ever do it

Nobody saw that (best if said loudly)

No one’s ever done it like me

I could be President/they should make me President

Behold, a mere fraction of my power!

The public wants to be me soooooo bad

I’m an expert in (thing you just failed at)

How could this have happened to god’s favorite princess?

Nothing ibuprofen and a glass of water cant fix

I’m being sabotaged

[thecoolestlei]

Just had to explain to my younger brother what Tumblr is and his first question was, “is it like Grindr?”

This is what living with a teenage boy is like

[thecoolestlei]

[thecoolestlei]

Me and the friend that reblogs all the trash I post🤞🤞

[thecoolestlei]

Warning: kind of sappy rant

I was running errands today and at one of the stores I saw a guy who was probably only a year or to older than me and he had the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen. They were like an amber-golden brown with like dark brown and rims around the irises.

I didn’t give him too much thought until I was driving somewhere else a few hours later and all I could think about is how even though brown/hazel eyes typically don’t stick with me (this isn’t brown eye slander, I just personally have green eyes so that’s the only color I pay attention to) but his eyes were so pretty that they became my favorite color eyes. Not blue, not green, not brown, whatever color his eyes were, that’s my new favorite eye color.

All that led me to fall deep into thought on how people who love each other always love each other’s eyes; it’s like there is something so special about eyes that we as humans hold them up on this pedestal. For example, when we’re nervous we don’t like to look people in the eyes because it makes us feel vulnerable.

I can guarantee you that I will always remember this guy’s eyes because this happens all the time (I see someone with gorgeous eyes and I can’t remember anything else about their appearance except for their eyes). But you should try it out sometime, just find a loved one and stare into their eyes. [as long as they let you and you tell them why, otherwise it’s a little unsettling]

So that’s my yap sesh on how the eyes are the window to who we are as humans and that’s why people love them. 👁️💋👁️

[thecoolestlei]

“I have so many Ao3 tabs open, might as well add another one.”

[thecoolestlei]

My short story from class bc why not:

Six redlights stand between me and the day I've been looking forward to for the past seven years. There has been talk of a new promotion and I heard from a very reliable source this past week that it's for my position. I've been working my hands to the bone for this firm for almost half a decade with no appreciation so it's more than fair. I got my own office two years ago but after that, there has been no momentum in my professional life.

In the lane beside me, a lumber truck pulls up slightly past me. I watched Final Destination as a teenager but I never quite understood the fear of log trucks. They're strapped down and secured. In fact, my father used to work for a lumber company and after the movie came out he ranted for hours about how unlikely it is and so on. I guess that eased any fear I'd ever have of them.

Still, the way one of the logs moves rapidly in the wind does give my stomach a tad twist. But I'm just being silly; it's just the transfer of my nerves for later that's giving me such a childish fear. I'll just focus on the road passing me by and everything will be alright.

On the left of me is the local university, Froidreach Educational Institution; a white-brick building that shades a large distance of the roadway. I attended for a few semesters fresh out of high school before transferring to a college out of state. When people ask why I transferred, I typically say it was due to a better program for my major, but really I'd had a falling out with my parents and wanted to get as far away from my hometown as possible. Reluctantly, I returned once I graduated but I still don’t speak to them frequently. Only on holidays and my birthday; they call me.

That log is still shaking.

It's fine, I'm just psyching myself out.

But it's moving a lot.

The wind must have picked up. That's all.

But what if it-

It does.

I have to swerve my car, barely missing a light post. I floor my breaks, now on the side of the road. Cars passing me by make my vehicle shake. I'm alive? Good God, I'm alive.

In my rearview mirror I can see the nearly eighteen foot log laying across the highway behind me. It must have flown over my car due to the wind. I don't necessarily care how it happened, as long as I'm all in one piece.

The driveway for the firm is a few feet away from where I unwillingly parked. Slowly I merge back onto the road and turn in. The parking spot designated for me is taken by a beat up pick up truck that doesn't match the nice SUVs and sport cars in the other spots. I take a photo of the sign in front of the parking place, "Reserved for Roy Martin; senior management director”, and send it in the workplace group chat with the following message, "Who parked in my spot lol?”

But it won't go through. Stupid WIFI.

Scanning my nametag at the door lets me in and an error message flashes before the door unlocks. They must have already put the promotion in the security system.

"Morning everybody,” I call out to the nearly empty office. No one says anything back.

Inside the break room, where I go to grab my coffee, a new person sits at the table in the corner. She has bright red hair that flows down her back and curls to frame near her face. She wears a dark grey pants suit and drinks from a mug.

"Hello?” I greet.

She smiles, "Hey.” She sets her mug down.

“I haven't seen you around before. Are you new?” I pause to give her a second to respond but she just looks at me like she's collecting words. So I add more in hopes that I didn't come off rude, "Did they transfer you here from a different branch?���

“Uh, yeah. Something like that.” She blinks, looking me up and down. “Ethel Parcae.”

She extends her hand for me to shake. It's icy.

“It's nice to meet you.” I turn back to the cabinets. I start opening all the drawers looking for advil; I have a killer headache. No luck.

With my coffee I retreat to my office. My desk is littered with framed photos of my friends and my family; it reminds me that they're still there if I want to bridge our gaps.

My computer won't turn on. Of course not. Just my kind of day. I sigh and walk to my office door, planning on looking for someone in the IT department to help but before I can, the door opens in my face.

“I saw you struggling through the window,” Ethel Parcae points to the window in the wall of my office, facing the breakroom. "Thought I would help.”

“Oh, alright.” I walk with her back over to my desk and press the power button once again. This time it…works? “Would you look at that…” I look up at Ethel who is now holding an old family portrait.

“This is your family?” She asks but it comes out as more of a statement. “You talked to them recently, Roy?”

“I…well no, not recently.” I sputter. "Wait, how do you know my name?”

My phone rings. My mom.

“That's them now.” Ethel whispers as she looks around my office. I let it ring out.

Another call. My dad.

“How do you know this? You're starting to freak me out.” I laugh nervously.

“I'm so sorry, Roy.” She doesn't look at me. “It's almost time to-” Her phone rings.

She answers it quickly.

"Hello? Yes…I know…yes, sir…we're on the way.” She says. "Come with me.”

She grabs my arm and I'm in such a daze that I follow. I'm dragged out to my reserved parking spot with the pick up truck. She gets in the driver's seat and motions for me to get in the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?” I squeak.

“To see the Big Man.”

“The who?” I grip the handle on the roof tightly.

“The what.” Ethel responds with a solemn nod, and we pull out onto the road.

The truck isn’t even on.

I'm tripping on something; I have to be. I must have mixed my morning medication with the wrong probiotic. There's no way this is happening.

Ethel turns up the radio: Highway to Hell by AC/DC. She looks over at me and smiles slightly.

“This is in poor taste, I apologize. But it’s the only station we get.” She takes a turn leaving us a few feet away from police lights and a crowd of cars.

“What’s that?” I ask, stretching my neck to look out the window.

“This is when you can ask who’s that.”

Oh God.

The truck pulls up farther, somehow squeezing through parked cars that she shouldn’t fit through, so we’re right beside a smashed SUV. An eighteen foot log extends through the windshield, middle of the driver's seat, and part of the back seat.

“It’s time to say goodbye.” Ethel parks the car.

“Is that me?” I can barely hear myself. “No it can’t be, I’m right-” I raise my hand to touch my chest but it just goes through. “But I drove to work, I made coffee this morning, my parents called me?”

“Your spirit has realized it’s time is up; you were running on built up fuel.”

“My parents. They still think I hate them.” I try to pull the door handle but it won’t budge. “I can’t die like this. I never did all the things I’m supposed to do. I have a girlfriend, I was going to propose. We have a dog named Rupert, will he think I abandoned him?”

“The Big Man will answer all of your questions, Roy, but now it’s time to go.” She places her hand on my arm.

“Is the Big Man God? Or the universe? What am I going to face?” I gasp, tangling my fingers in my hair.

“To be completely honest with you, I don’t get paid enough to know. I’ve never seen the afterlife, I just take you from point A to point B.” Ethel explains as she taps on the steering wheel. “Are you ready?”

“Wait, one last question then I’ll go,” I pause to think of what I want my last question to be. “Will it hurt?”

“Only your soul.” She whispers before patting my shoulder. The car finally cranks up.

3 days in the afterlife… ~6 months later on Earth

I visit my grave a lot. It gives me peace I suppose. My girlfriend stopped coming to the grave site about 3 months in. She’ll open the car door and let Rupert lay on my headstone but she doesn’t get out.

My mom stops by every Monday. My dad goes every Friday.

Today I watch from a distance, sitting on a bench shaded by a tree, as my mom replaces the flowers. She has gotten frail, though I suppose she’s been that way, I just never saw her. Her thin hands delicately fix the leaves and petals.

I must’ve been out here watching her for almost an hour on Earth when I heard breathing beside me.

The same red hair. No pants suit, this time a shaggy sweater and linen pants. It’s what fits my mom’s soul best.

“Her time?” I ask quietly. My voice cracks but she doesn’t say anything about it.

“Yes.” She nods.

“Can I know how?” I turn to face Ethel.

“Stroke. She won’t make it to the cemetery gate.”

“She’ll die beside the person she gave life.” I say. After a second I laugh breathily. “Take care of her on her trip. She never liked car rides.”

“I’ve already got it handled.” She smiles back, a mix of pity and understanding.

[thecoolestlei]

I wish men were real😔

I know I’m like, gay and stuff, but what if I just make out with a boy for funsies. For the experience. Ya know?

[thecoolestlei]

I swear teenage boys have no clue what “I don’t want to go out with you so please stop trying” looks like.

Like I just had a guy ask me (completely unprompted) if I wanted him to come over to my house to meet my family.

Um no? You don’t even know my favorite color so why are you trying to get my hand in marriage?