ramblings.

Yeah, that’s right. That look of disgust and intense hatred on my face every time I see a mirror? That’s just a muscle spasm. I’m not crying, there’s just a freshly cut onion lodged in my tear ducts. I’m not sad. Gravity’s just getting my face before it gets to the rest of me. I punched that locker because it punched me first. My eyes are itchy. I’m sniffing because I have allergies. I only hate myself because I deserve it.

Fuck you, I’m perfectly happy.

/melodrama