Wrap your troubles in dreams, and dream your troubles away.
I can’t tell if I love or hate or love to hate or hate that I love my boyfriend…
I’ve pissed away the first half of this year. I CANNOT believe it’s July. That’s what boyfriends do. So much time & energy.
I hate men right now. One in paticular. Fucking bitch.
Oh shit this was the last thing my friend Taylor posted on her tumblr before she died a couple of days later… Damn…
Q: Do you ever feel like hurting yourself or someone else?
A: Um. I’m about to either rip my or someone else’s hair out if I don’t get a fucking square in my lungs. A whole cigarette. I need a whole goddamn cigarette. And it ain’t happening. People know exactly how to not press, but slam, mash, kick and beat your fucking buttons in a 24hr period of no nicotine. So this is it, doc. Yes. I feel like fucking someone up right now. Or bashing my head into the wall.
Fuck. This. Shit.
Cake it on.
I put bleach in my perfectly natural golden blonde hair and now I feel like inhave made the worst mistakse in the whole fucking universe. All I can do is cry about it an top of everything else that regularly fucks up on top of everything that has never been given a chance to fuck up because it’s beenfucked up since the get-go.
I’m over it. And I don’t have any reasonable solutions for this self-inflicted turmoil.
Here’s to figuring out how to fraud an intense drug test.
Now that I’m a pharmacy technician I can work with drugs legally (and illegally on the DL.)
Guess I could follow new, more appealing to my interests blogs… but, I’m thinking that would be a horrendously long, annoying task to LOOK for them. And I’m lazy when it comes right down to it- regarding this sort of shit.
I’m still alive, bitch.
Tumblr is still boring, bitch.
What are y’all doing? Shit.
Like I love everyone.
Everyone be nice.
Chill out and love each other.
Feeling great. Molly is one of my main bitches now.