i think very soon im going to go and find lindsays gun and blow my skull out. i dont know what to do. he doesnt love me no more and i should of known it was never going to last cause who the fuck to stand to be with me for ever? i cant do nothing, i cant make him laugh, or feel any better, or want to talk. pip can. maybe i should just leave him ( Read more... )

he hardly speaks to me and when he does its just him and pip jumping me to tell me to say thumbs up to the asians.

this is my life.

still; did mean he tackled me to the ground- à quelque chose malheur est bon.

fuck.

pete and pip have gone looking for sweets, lindsays reading. stitch is back to being 15 when he wrote all the fucking time. pointless fucking drivil all of it, just like it was then. petes always told stories, thats a given. but me. i used to write down the truth. i used to do diarys and write down everything what happened every day in a horrific ( Read more... )