She’s on about being manic, and claiming it, and being actually quite ashamed of the whole ting. She’s on about how much easier it is to talk about mania within a certain distance, like, that was a year ago.. Like, it may be funny or interesting to read a manic person explaining mania, albeit confusing, but it’s not that funny when it’s you.

She’s on about friendship and being alone again

She’s on about feeling nothing. Saying less. And noticing more This is not depression .

She’s on about her Zen at her new Members-Only-Mountain-Club Job. Aren’t we glad she’s doing better than the last few blog posts?

She’s on about herself, some imposter syndrome, and a psuedo-storytime about beginning and branding. Kinda. In the usual meandering way.

She’s on about her adjustment, living in a liminal space, and kinda spiraling about her identity. Obviously not for long, though. There has to be a destination. She is just not sure where that is. She is not a fortune teller. She’s just spiraling.

She’s on about packing for Colorado and her travel day

Oh, she’s on about her mountain move, and her family, and perception. Simple!

Words don’t even cover all that she’s on about. Now she has added math? She sucks at math. But she seems to be great at being crazy. Maybe this will all come together nicely.

She’s on about her loyalty to femcelhood. Let her talk. Points are perhaps being made.

She’s on about something, and it’s not becoming. This is a particularly self-deprecating essay. Skip it, if you’re not into that kind of thing.

Oh god. This one’s winding. Weekend Deets has Subheaders, but it doesn’t even really denote what shes on about.