I don’t want to bitch on Thailand but 2 months here and my French ass is craving for a piece of 90% dark Lindt so bad 🥲
Logistics for the mother-led smuggling ring are currently underway. 📦📦📦
My mom’s love language went from hiding candies in my school pencil case to DMing me absolute AI cat slop on Instagram.
Trust me, I’ll eat that slop to the last drop
The latest Wuthering Heights movie: 50% horny, 50% crying. A perfectly balanced diet, I recommend.
The good thing about not having roommates anymore is that I can talk aloud to myself again. I can be a weirdo in every room of this apartment, only Siri and the FBI can judge me now ☺️
I’m moving to Thailand in three days. I’m smiling so much my iPhone Face ID doesn’t recognize me anymore.
Me reading people Spotify Wrapped like it’s a leaked therapist report
A venti Americano and a shot of serotonin. Blonde roast, to go, please. ☕️🥹
The media really will treat LLMs as human before they give trans people the same courtesy
Quit my job, booked Thailand, started living from my passion, ready for glow-up era.
Depression: “bonjour, long time no see ☺️”
Just a bipolar thing but it still got me. Being at your “peak” on paper and still feeling dead inside. Smiling so people don’t think you’re ungrateful or wasting it.
I wonder how the digital nomad life is going to mess with my bipolar brain.
I wonder how dangerous it is to add more instability into the mix… but I don’t want to stay in a “safe place” forever either.
So I guess we just… figure it out as we go?
I feel guilty about leaving my country even though I have no family or even a career reason to stay.
Then I remember it’s just my emotional brain, still optimized for villages and tribes, not visas and planes.
Shut up brain, we’re leaving France and fixing our vitamin D deficiency in Thailand☀️🧳✈️
my guilty pleasure: taking my AirPods out at Starbucks to listen to job interviews at the next table and mentally screaming “no, don’t trash your old job, that’s a red flag.” a red flag like… listening to strangers’ conversations. anyway, back to my scriptwriting
True crime videos used to teach my brain how to escape kidnappers.
Now “which one is AI” videos teach me whether those horses are really living their best life on a trampoline.
Neva know where danger is 🐎
I’m starting a project with a content creator that might let me quit my night auditor job.
My boss: “You’ve been glowing lately!”
Me: guilty af like an unfaithful wife after seeing her lover 🥲
New bipolar phase unlocked : Nouvelle Vague.
Jean-Luc Godard behind the lens, no script : just smoke, jazz, black-and-white film grain and mood swings.
A smartphone screenshot of Spotify in dark mode. At the top is the cover image from Gilmore Girls: two women lying on autumn grass with scattered leaves. Below, the playlist title reads “Gilmore Girls Soundtrack,” with the subtitle “The reason for the season.” The creator is “mimi.” Stats show about 104k saves and a total length of 2 hours 20 minutes. The visible track list includes: “Where You Lead I Will Follow” by Carole King, “How to Dream” by Sam Phillips, “There She Goes” by The La’s, and “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer. A persistent player bar at the bottom shows “Lovefool” by The Cardigans currently playing, connected to “Margot’s AirPods.” Standard Spotify controls and icons (shuffle, pause) are visible.
The season has started ☕️🍂
My diet-coded brain: “yum, a good piece of protein.”
My French brain: “OUI ! LET’S MELT SALTED BUTTER AND GARLIC ON THAT.” 🧄🧈🇫🇷
Still time to drown your guilty playlist with cool underground tracks if you want a respectable Spotify Wrapped 2025 to show the world and your crush in two months.
Just saying 🙄
Me: “I’m bipolar, just so you’re not surprised when I vanish in bed for 3 weeks.”
Them: “Have you tried crystals / herbal tea / essential oils?”
It’s that weird mix of “I want to fix you” and “I don’t think it’s a real thing.”
Never know how to take it 🥹
I’m wearing my Britney skirt today.
I’m UNSTOPPABLE.
(Yep, the manic way)
This manic episode is as powerful as the depressive one was lately.
I know I’ll burn myself playing with this fire, but life feels so good at this intensity.
Summoning the gods of reason to keep me from doing too much dumb shit 😅
The problem when I discover a new filmmaker is that I compulsively watch their entire filmography until there’s not a crumb left.
Where is the problem?
I haven’t slept in 35h and I’m now almost fluent in Norwegian (this time it’s Joachim Trier).
I’ve saved up for a car.
I’m passing my license next month, right after my 30th birthday.
But all I want is to burn it on a camera instead.
The adult in me says “car” (for my “””hotel career”””).
The scenarist in me says “stupid move” (to shoot projects).
Fuck adulthood
Today, for the first time in forever, I had nothing to do… so I panicked and booked 6 back-to-back cinema screenings.
…Turns out I just needed this to realize I’m completely manic 🥹
Now excuse me while I pack snacks for 10 hours at the cinema ☺️
Three stills from the TV series Narcos showing the character Pablo Escobar (played by Wagner Moura) looking lonely and contemplative in different locations, with crudely drawn, childlike doodles of AirPods added to his ears. Top: He sits on a yellow swing bench outdoors, staring ahead blankly. Bottom left: He sits alone at a small kitchen table, head down, arms crossed, lit by dim yellow light. Bottom right: He stands by himself in an empty, drained swimming pool, hands behind his back, gazing into the distance. The mood across all three images is quiet, sad, and isolated, contrasted by the humor of the clumsy, cartoonish AirPods.
Me listening to my audiobook but there are no chores left to do at the same time (yes, those tiny AirPods are hand-drawn, thank you)
I have a soft spot for early-2000s French translations of novels about tech, AI, and the future — where the translator clearly had no idea what they were reading, so computers become esoteric and cryptic.
I’m sure Millennium hits different in English or Swedish, but I adore my goofy French version.
Me: watching Spanish-subtitled Korean arthouse films in a damp 12-seat basement, staying through the end credits, staring into the void like I just understood all the subtleties🧐
Also me: ugly-crying at the end of Freaky Friday2, covered in popcorn crumbs🍿
Love movies ?You gotta love ALL the movies.
It took me 20 minutes to work up the confidence to kick a pigeon out of my bedroom.
So this is life without a cat, huh?🤔
