I have never told anyone this but when I was 15 I wrote a suicide note in the form of a text message and was planning on sending it to my father, I pressed send and felt my heart jump a little. But the message didn’t send, I pressed send again..still didn’t send. I pressed it again and again and again and it wouldn’t send. Maybe I’m crazy, but I saw that as a sign. Through my tears and frustration and upset I just stopped. I stopped trying to press send because maybe this wasn’t where my story should have ended, and it didn’t and I am still here today. Now had the text sent I probably wouldn’t be here today, I’d be in a hospital somewhere, or dead. But I’m here and all because a text message wouldn’t send.
My lack of clothes is less offensive and disturbing than your lack of self control. On sight of cleavage and you fuckboys turn into 12 y/o boys that are just discovering masturbation. If me showing a little skin turns you into an incompetent peasant that can’t form a sentence other than “nice tits” than that is your problem, not mine. I’m not asking for your attention nor do I want it. I dress the way I dress for me. Not for you horny little twits that stain your knickers at the sight of a woman. Damn.
Two finds @ the thrift store.
When people who find out I’m pansexual ask if that means I’ll have sex with animals
I asked my friend dan how boners work.
a penis is just a giant clitoris
When you get the flash drive in the USB port on the first try