January 2011
I am not your friend. I never will be.
Because I would rather see you dead.
I would rather see you suffer and cry and plead for mercy than for you to think we’re friends. or to even act as such.
I am not your friend.
Snooki is a New York Times best-selling author.
clockworkjerk:
appleznbananaz:
lunasumerin:
-xine:
encom:
clutwo:
insanecooperfan:
sincariazephyer:
raygunjones:
Well, that’s it. I’ve officially lost hope in my generation.
From now on, my only concern is popcorn.
yeah I will get a job related to popcorn
Popcorn is my heart and soul.
I must be out of the loop.. what is snooki?
…what the ever loving...
I’d sell my soul, my self-esteem, a dollar at a time
For one chance, one kiss, one taste of you, my Magdelena.
I got complimented today.
Reblog if you were born on your birthday.
and it’s that moment of euphoria - a simple moment - that has been crushed that brings every instance of hurt back. Is a single word “congrats” hard to say? I’ve never had a problem saying it. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it from you, nor that you are proud of me. And that hurts, you know? Because you’re the person that I want to hear those things from...
Such a strange numb, and it brings my knees to the Earth.
and I don’t want to be alone, or sad anymore.
I don’t want to be bitter, or feel like I’m rotting from the inside out as I can only watch myself from a distance as this person who looks familiar goes insane.
I don’t want to feel so unbelievably guilty for something that wasn’t my fault, or that I’m nothing but a giant disappointment. I don’t want to make...
One day, I’ll be perfect in my eyes.
As long as medication and therapy works, then so be it.
I want to be better, because I don’t want to hurt people.
