People on the bus are talking about fucking their own mothers. Disgusted heather is disgusted.
On the bus with heather and she’s jingling. God dommit.
Where I’m sat on the bus in a northface jacket. Eating biscuits out of a sandwich bag which has one of those keep fresh clips on them and drinking juice from a flask.
That would be the end for me.
May the wind carry you home.
Blackbird, fly away.
May you never be broken again.
Just fuck everyone who refuses to believe, that I might be a different person. That I might have actually changed.
Not a single person who has doubted me before, has even thought about giving me the opportunity to make a difference.
None of you fucks have fucking bothered.
Because the whole fucking world has got some bullshit theory that “people can’t change”.
Does anyone realise how pessimistic that attitude is towards to aptitude of people?
Its rude, actually fucking rude.
I’m going to continue drinking.
And told me he hated me, and I’d ruined his birthday.
Because I ran out the room crying whilst everyone sang happy birthday because of something somebody had said to me.
I’ve never felt more hated or alone in my entire fucking life.
I just saw the headline “Rick Santorum invokes Ronald Reagan at Jelly Belly factory” and for some reason it made me burst into laughter.
“Mum, thats not fat, its my bacon muscle.”
People can’t see you cry behind darkened shades.
Can somebody just fancy me or something it’s been so long since I had any real attention.
“Its a veritable cornicopia of tards.”