Jesus Christ i just want to fucking sleep
This is fucking bull shit. I fucking hate girls. All you care about is stupid fucking highschool drama. This if do immature. I don’t even care what you’re talking about it was so long ago, i just care that you’re fucking talking shit. Sure you’re all sweet and nice in person and then as soon as you’re hiding behind a computer you’ve got the fucking balls to say what you should have fucking said to my face. If I’m upset about something, or i have thoughts about someone, i fucking tell you to your face. I’m not fucking fake I’m real as fuck. Bitches.
you know, I’ve been thinking.
which its pretty great how much i don’t think about you anymore.
but when i do, i feel incredibly nostalgic, yet reflective. this is what my most recent thoughts were.
you lost a lot of friends when you lost me. I remember threatening that that would happen, but at the time i didn’t believe anything i was saying. I knew it would never happen. I was wrong, because it has. you’ve become everything you hated. you’re disrespectful, condescending and downright mean. your flagrant disregard for anything standing in your way is repulsive. your hate has replaced your love, and your heart has darkened. those you called friends have come to see your true colors - the tragic and ironic flaw of that being that you forced them to. you wasted no time claiming your distance from them, your “growth” within days of heading to college, and everyone had to find a new Alfie. not difficult. just a new car, a new connection, a new fun loving, pot smoking, dirty hippie, which is what you were at the time. but you aren’t that person anymore. this isn’t because of my resentments. this is because i loved you. I loved that person from the depths of my soul, the bottom of my heart. I have every wrinkle, freckle, and line on your face etched into my brain. your teal emerald eyes stare at me behind closed eyelids whenever i think of you. i know everything about you. Or at least, i did. that person, the al i know, the one that loves me times infinity glue sticks, never saidno to a friend in need and whose family came first, he is gone. long gone. i know this because i can feel it. when someone says your name, talks about you…when you drive past me in midway on your turquoise vespa…when i see a picture of you…i can feel it in my heart. Its not a good feeling…it s a pull, a tug, a yank…and a burning. it burns like alcohol poured on an open wound. you’re different. your wall is up. and i can feel it, even without being with you or near you or talking to you. that’s the thing about me, I’ve always had a knack for beingable to feel energy, especially emotional energy…so when it comes to those i truly care about, it comes like a forest fire. rash and brash and out of control i feel alone and scared and some how i know that’s exactly how you feel. Because I’m not alone or scared when i picture, hear, think about or see you. I’m relieved that you didn’t take me down with you.
‘Murrica. No apologies. No restraint.
|me:||he's doing some athletic shit|
|me:||and omg look at that butt|