my friends are bastards
hello, yes, it’s me again with more complaints about some shitty clutter that have been clouding up my so-called-mind for years even before i was being made into a zygote. i’m not here for an asshole to tell me what i’m doing wrong nor am here for human-species to tell me that i’m not alone. i’m here to V E N T.
i’m alone, but no i actually like alone. The utter loneliness is how i sleep every night. tadda! i don’t usually have insomnia! though i do have something called “oversleeping” and on occasions i can be insomniac.
and that was my introduction to the topic…
*cough* *cough* *co-please-don’t-take-me-seriously-uuuugh* *sigh*
friends, what are friends? supposedly species that shouldn’t even ponder about pondering about judging you. i thought friends are just an army (no specific number) that should wander where you wander. that should eat your soul cos no one can bear your soul’s spices.
my “friends” don’t listen to me when i talk, barely even take me as i am. i would say that i’m fed-up of them but the fact is i never even got to them to reach that stage yet. unfortunately 10 year old me, people have finally got to you, no matter how many times you resisted them and resented them your stupid older version keeps on welcoming them.
why do i say all this when all i want to say is fuck friends?!
