five.

He told me about 15 minutes ago that he probably would’ve stopped talking to other girls and all his other various endeavors if I had just looked up at him with my sad face and wrinkled forehead while asking

“Why would you do that to me..?”

He told me I should’ve used my “cute” to my advantage

and I reminded him its a year too late to be saying that.

Maybe I’ll give this site one last try.

Alright, I did it.
I’m tumbling, literally and somewhat metaphorically, though I think infinitely falling into a rut is more precise but also sounds too much like a Relient K lyric.
It’s a quarter to 12 on the 2nd day of December and I feel the same as I do every night, every week, every month, for the past couple of seasons.
You don’t want to know what that feeling is exactly, but after several days on here it might end up becoming all too clear.
I apologize in advance.
So get ready no one and everyone,
because I live off of memories,
hate every pixel of my life,
and honestly have no one else to talk to.

And I tend to tweet too much.