i am moron
the lady at the front desk said my eyes look pretty today. bless her heart.
maybe she was lying.
i know his favorite drink, what kind of car he drives, where he likes to eat, what he orders at restaurants, which nascar driver he loves, what time he wakes up, when he goes to sleep... and i've never met him. nope, i have no idea who he is, but i'm gonna keep hearing about him. i'm not trying to be mean, but i'd prefer a change of subject. i want to talk to you, not hear about your fella.
or just keep rubbing it in.
i'm so confused.
i don't get it.
what's happening.
and why.
keep telling me i'm stupid too, cuz i love the way it sounds you know.
,lzxcm,zxCm,ADS.,/DSb v v' 9ui hipe ppejio r perR UTQPO nlnaerueragrjioiojrngoisdih'osindsdoofogiogroigofiifgrmy sentiments exactly.
i do not want this.
where'd you go.
there's a skinny person somewhere. a confident, pretty, skinny person. but it died years ago. and now it's all ugly so there's no use in trying.
allll byyyy myyyself.
don't want to be all by myself.
but that's a problem.
fuck it.