im sick of you telling me about how crap your life is when you don't even understand or let me tell you how shit im feeling, you have friends i don't at the moment, i have nobody at school and the only place i feel alone and happy is at the gym on my own.
i cant fit in.
im one of those people that just is trying now, to fit in.
im not even being myself.
i need money
i need friends
i have neither of those things
i feel like all i need to do is blog, seen as thats what carrie bradshaw does, and she has some perfect ass life. oh come on becca its fiction i think thats the correct word anyway, but she has 3 amazing friends, shes a talented writer. shes gorgeous, she has a walk in closet bigger than my house. She has atleast a few guys after her and a wonderful loaded husband. i wish i turned out like that, something lucky and perfect and a little bit confusing.
i just want to talk to you again, because nobody else fucking listens, but i havent really got a problem that doesnt sound pathetic and needy
the pain reduces throughout the day, i learn to live with the fact your not going to talk to me..and that im never going to be included and that i have to pretend im okay all the time. well i better go clean my room now. im really annoyed cos ive had like 3 coldsores in a month and there leaving scars. fml.
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