crimsonchaos:

robbstark:

mercurymusing:

robbstark:

I had to answer a security question over the phone today and it was honestly surreal the guy asked me “okay, what’s your dream car” and for a solid ten seconds I’m thinking ‘what the fuck I can’t even drive?’ and then it hits me. I made this account in 2014. I know what I have to say. I swallow my pride and whisper into the phone:

“1967 Chevy Impala.”

There’s silence. Then, he gives me my password. Fuck you, 2014 me. Fuck. You.

I just felt the shadow of something ancient and awful brush past, like a great leviathan peeking from the waves on a moonless night far from shore.

This is by far the most haunting addition to any one of my text posts. I won’t sleep tonight.

I’ve been on the other end of the phone for this kind if thing, and all I can say is at least you didn’t have to ask someone what they wanted to be when they grew up only to find the answer they put was “fire truck”