"How fat bitches laugh"
it is september 20th, the technical start of the autumn season. you sigh to yourself, letting the baseball cap in your hands fall to the ground. it’s no longer summer. your hat is off your head, and not worn backwards. it is no longer time to fucking party.
"At least you love me." I say to my pet as I hold them against my chest as they try to get away
if i was famous id probably just ask my fans to buy me food when im hungry
This is seriously so unfair. How could you tell me this NOW?
how do you choose between your best guy friend and your lover boy
If you can’t deal with my sarcasm. I can’t deal with being your friend.
Time to pretend nothing is wrong.