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It’s like I somehow forgot how in love with Cara Delevingne I am.

I love you, new Grandpa ❤️

Consider this part of my totally formal audition to next year’s #BachelorInParadise 🌹

Goodness, it's absolutely exhausting having a crush on 20+ different people at a time.

"Well I didn't mean it in an offensive way" is a completely irrelevant rebuttal. It's never been about what you meant, it's about how what you said was perceived. Even if you meant no harm, chances are, somebody who's said a similar thing HAS meant harm to them.

Women are incredible. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

Not sure how someone figured this out, but I guess my song “Isn’t Me” mashes up almost perfectly with One Direction’s #NightChanges… I’m a 1D fan, so I’m sure I was subconsciously inspired.

When you think about it, kissing is such a weird concept. Two humans putting their mouths together as a sign of affection and sometimes even let their tongues fight? Don't get me wrong, I love it. It's just such an interesting thing we've chosen to do as a society.

My goal is to be on your 2022 Spotify Wrapped.

Why does it feel like I’m somehow too short to be cast as #TheBachelor? I’m 6 feet tall, but it seems like they only cast absolute skyscrapers.

In the same way that I felt bad for all of the kind people named Karen, I’m so sorry to all of the really nice and chill Brandon’s out there.

Now I just feel like I’m farming minutes on Spotify to make sure my Spotify Wrapped for this year looks respectable.

Maybe it’s just blind optimism, but I assume everyone is a good person until proven bad.

The deepest circle of hell is just a 3-bedroom apartment where nobody ever refills the Brita.

Finding out that somebody you’ve been crushing on isn’t actually a particularly good person is a pretty sobering experience.

I have come to the conclusion that I am too weird to be cast as the Bachelor.

I just somehow can’t stop thinking about Will Smith slapping Chris Rock on national TV. I even had a dream about it last night. We no longer live in 2022 AD, we live in the year 1 AS: After Slap.

One of the toughest things about being anxious and heartbroken is knowing you’ve been on the other side of this, making others feel that way too 💔

Why does it somehow feel like every ceiling fan is required to be at least moderately squeaky?

I am in a constant state of needing to do laundry.