Precelia=)
I Laugh Alot, I Talk Alot
NINEteen going on TWENTY.
September 16, My Day.
DramaQUEEN.
Starbucks Addict.
I'm Fat, I Know
I Blog, I Scream, I Bite
Polka-Dotted Socks Turn Me On
I Find Flip Flops Sexy
Teddy Bears Make Me Feel Secure At Night=D
Best Viewed In Safari.
Facebook adds anyone?
Celia Lee
I do, and letting go's the only way. Like deleting your browser's internet history after watching porn. Like backspacing words you are so close to sending. Like almost blurting out how you really feel. Like walking past a waffle shop, but you're already late. Like eating ice cream's that melted. Like eating strawberries only to find out that you've ran out of whipped cream, AND chocolate sauce. Like queuing up for egg-tarts only to find them sold out by our turn.
Like continuously stabbing a knife through your heart, telling yourself that it is perfectly under control and life's good and *inserts grossed out face*S M I L I N G.
No it fucking is not. /i know my entry's getting a little out of point. But no one's forcing a gun to your head to read it.
So like i said, its not gonna be okay. Not till YOU wanna be okay. And that decision, has to come from your heart. Not your vagina, not your penis, nor your brain. It has to come from the scars you inflict on yourself to the make believe fairy tales you layout before you.
