FMF I act like a creeper.
This is scary. Goodnight.
So, my crush is an actor/dancer and I see gifs/photos of him on Tumblr. WOW. (Let’s pause for a moment and pray for my heart… lol)
CRUSH UPDATE: I got his full name! HAHAHA
…but nothing’s gonna happen lol
No Way Out
Your story started with a glass of margarita and a throbbing headache.
5 hours ago, you were silently picking up the pieces of paper that you thought were more important than your life. And, just like any other day, you were wrong. You sobbed in the corner of the office, you felt like you were the world’s greatest failure- you felt like you failed your family, your humanity, your life, and to some extent- you thought you failed god or the universe. Again, you were overanalyzing stuff. You knew you look like a problem- an abomination, your hair felt like a haystack from Old McDonald’s farm- fuck that song- eeya eeya yo… You laughed and cried. You rolled over. Fuck my life, I look like a dog.
Your boss asked you if you were ok, you said ‘yes’ with your oscar award winning smile. Girl, Meryl Streep would be so proud. The clock ticked away, 2, 3, 4:30… 5. You’re done. You left that hell hole that was dragging you down. You needed a boost, fuck that, you need booze.
You walked to the nearest pub- Oscar award winning smile, haystack hair, your face that felt like an abomination, and all. You ordered a drink. Oh tequila shot! No, make that a cocktail- margarita… yes, margarita to start your day.
You were happily drinking. Slowly, you were forgetting all the bullshit that happened earlier. You got fired, cheers to that! Now, you don’t know what to do, cheers! And the boss asked you if you’re okay, fuck your face!
You worked hard but you weren’t Jackie. You’re just you- you and your small boobs. Gaaah! You wish you were Jackie, you knew her boobs helped her keep her job.
Slowly, you were blacking out. Like, for real- YOU WERE BLACKING OUT!
“OMG, I’m a grandma…” Gone are the days of your magnificent alcohol tolerance, you became part of the statistics- of grandmas that shouldn’t drink and just stick with knitting.
1st glass… 10th glass…. Damn, life is wonderful…. 11th… are we in Melbourne?… 12th… God, oh are you God?… 13th… This is unlucky… gulp… 14th… aaahhhh, FUCK YOUR FACE, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE CLOSING?!, 15th… I need a life.
You felt empty. Lost, even. You wished you didn’t drink. You could still feel the rock salt on your lips, maybe they’re your tears?
Your story started with a glass of margarita and a throbbing headache- and it ended that way.
Almost a mistake
Your touch reminded me of a long and cold summer night-
chilly and warm; promising and ruthless.
your nails dug deep in my skin; they left marks of pleasure caused by pain.
bittersweet. i reached for your loving arms, your warm and wet lips-
you’re impossible to grasp, difficult to reach.
You’re an anomaly- the cold summer night that never fades away.
Hey you guys!
I have a new crush! hahaha
that’s all. kbye.