Of course, dearie. <3
Thank you.. (:
…Nah. Not this time, sweetie. =P
Kristie Alley: I haven’t had a boyfriend for over ten years!
Ellen DeGeneres: Me either. *High-five*” — Ellen DeGeneres (via fafafly)
cna uyo raed stfuf wehn ist put liek tihs? fi yuo acn sned it on ot all yuor fllowers ot suorppt poepel whit dsyleixa.
How much Miranda and I fought. ._.
…I have a few.
We’ll go with Jacob Evans. I’ve known him for almost 16 years. Our parents were friends.
“Why?” You want to know why?
Step into a tanning booth and fry yourself for two or three days. After your skin bubbles and peels off, roll in coarse salt, then pull on long underwear woven from spun glass and razor wire. Over that goes your regular clothes, as long as they are tight.
Smoke gunpowder and go to school to jump through hoops, sit up and beg, and roll over on command. Listen to the whispers that curl into your head at night, calling you ugly and fat and stupid and bitch and whore and worst of all, “a disappointment.” Puke and starve and cut and drink because you don’t want to feel any of this. Puke and starve and drink and cut because you need the anesthetic and it works. For a while. But then the anesthetic turns into poison and by then it’s too late because you are mainlining it now, straight into your soul. It is rotting you and you can’t stop.
Look in a mirror and find a ghost. Hear every heartbeat scream that everysinglething is wrong with you.
“Why?” is the wrong question.
Ask “Why not?”” —Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson
But it’s a lie.” —Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson
Wouldn’t you notice if a mattress fell off your car? Maybe it was in the back of a truck loaded down with everything a girl owned, taking her to some guy she met online. She promised him her body and soul. He promised her three meals a day and a house but said the place could use more furniture. He didn’t stop when the mattress fell off. A new wife deserves a clean bed, that’s what he always said.
Maybe a leather-covered biker girl, butch and strong, is coming down the road a mile or so behind me. Any minute now, some idiot will cut in front of her and she’ll swerve and the bike will flip and send her screaming because she forgot her wings again and gravity never forgets
and then she’ll hit
that nasty mattress. And yeah, she’ll wind up with three broken ribs, a fractured femur, and a strained neck, but the ambulance drivers won’t ever mention that. They’ll always talk about how the stained mattress at the side of the road saved that chick’s life.
The smell of Emma’s potato chips is doing this to my brain.” —Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson
Pointy snowflakes spiral down from the cake-frosting clouds overhead. The first snow. Magic. Everybody stops and looks up. The bus exhause freezes, trapping all the noise in a gritty cloud. The doors to the school freeze, too.
We tilt our heads back and open wide.
The snow drifts into our zombie mouths crawling with grease and curses and tobacco flakes and cavities and boyfriend/girlfriend juice, the stain of lies. For one moment we are not failed tests and broken condoms and cheating on essays; we are crayons and lunch boxes and swinging so high our sneakers punch holes in the clouds. For one breath everything feels better.
Then it melts.
The bus drivers rev their engines and the ice cloud shatters. Everyone shuffles forward. They don’t know what just happened. They can’t remember.” —Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson
At this very moment, apodyopsis. ofc. >.>
MSN. Sometimes Mibba or Facebook.
The possibility of seeing my friends this week.
Love you, too.