Belén Mata

@heybelen.bsky.social

Here to help others. Professional designer and aspiring professional fan of baby goats.

The funniest thing about having satin sheets is how fast getting out of bed happens, willingly or unwillingly. My departure is unexpectedly expedited. I am the Sonic of starting my day at 1 pm.

last night my bff and i moved all the furniture out of her kitchen, and she brought out a rainbow-colored parachute (like the one kids play with in gym class) and we PLAYED PARACHUTE GAMES. we also threw it up in the air and met in the middle and hugged and it was EVERYTHING

See, it would be so much funnier if I didn’t have an attentive partner who doesn’t take months to realize that I’ve put several cursed hand puppets into our shared online cart. And it would be so much BETTER if he didn’t purchase them, and then secretly bust them out during a funeral.

One of my friends and I went to a world-famous, unnamed chocolate store about twice a year for four years. It wasn’t until we had been there at least half a dozen times that we realized the minis in the entrance were NOT freebies. We had just been tearing into them, like mints in a restaurant.

was taking stock and writing labels for some clothing totes and my pen started running out of ink right when I was writing the word “bikinis”, making it look like a dying man’s hastily-scrawled cave message

The death of a perfect pet - you know, “the one?” - is never something you get over. It’s been a year and a half since my girl left. She liked being in water and playing fetch. She was a dog in a cat. But last night, I dreamt I played fetch with her. Today was brighter because of that.

My parents (divorced and estranged - this is relevant) and I have all agreed to do one thing to mess with my brother, who works in IT: We’re all calling it Chat Gippity whenever we speak with him about AI stuff. We’ll see how quickly it takes for him to break.

Every god damn morning I wake up and tell myself, “I’m going to bed early tonight. I don’t care how much fun it was to stay up late.” And then every night, just like Mark Scout to his innie on the camera, my night-owl ass is all “I love fun!! Nothing is bad!! I won’t regret this!!” Aaaaand repeat.

It turns out when you go to a pride event and you get really warm and accidentally sweat off some of your temp tats, you go from being queer to a confused Mexican (which is perfect, because I am both)

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It’s pride. As a queer person that can identify as bi, I guess I’m visible. So I guess I must confess: - I do not sit normally on chairs - I’m not your unicorn - I will actively try to figure out where you got that outfit from. You look so good in it. Go off!!