A night of heavy drinking with the homeboy
followed by a spontaneous trip to Vegas the next day
followed by me getting my nipples pierced today
and now I’m dyeing my hair the good ol red I had before.
Someone stop me.
No, actually, don’t.
You know you’re fat when you’re standing in front of your shower, naked, and eating a sandwich before you hop in because you’re too hungry to function and might shampoo your body.
My struggle is so real.
Sometimes I wonder if anyone has the same sense of humor and/or taste in anything as I do. I watched “Her” recently, which was given a 93% on RT, but I hated it. Don Jon wasn’t a great movie either. 90% of the shit on Tumblr isn’t funny. Nothing makes me cry from laughing so much, I can, in fact, breathe, and I don’t lose my shit over some shitty meme or video.
Is this what stress does to you? or is this called “growing up”? Is this real, or is it fantasy?
I have also acquired two friends on my forehead. I bought benzoyl peroxide 10% to drown these motherfuckers but they’re here to stay. They may be from said stress. Or maybe they’re realizing how alone I am and they feel bad for me.
Well you know what, Ugly 1 and Ugly 2, I don’t need you. Go bother someone else. I don’t like your silhouettes in my selfies.
It would be nice to sleep at a normal time so I can wake up early and go to the gym when the air outside is still cold and dewy.
Just simple things I ask for. How can people get 7 million dollar yachts at the snap of a finger and I can’t even get my internal clock on schedule again. Maybe it’s because they’re rich. Will I sleep on time if I had money like that? I’d probably never sleep because I’d be doing so much coke.
I’m just kidding. I don’t do drugs. I’d be playing video games.