i'm just sayin' you could do better
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i'm Kelli. no me gusta the bullshit. and fuck yall for just judging that last sentence because i know yall just did.
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Please fuck off
LIKE FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU I HATE YOU YOU ARE A PIECE OF SHIT PERSON
I need to get my shit and my life together ASAP. This isn’t what this is supposed to be like. I’m not supposed to be pissed all the time because you take every chance to fuck me over and run with it. I don’t deserve this, and I rarely say that. There are better things right in front of my face, so why am I still fucking with you? All the shit you do and say to me isn’t right, and the weight on my heart all the time because of how much you make me mad and hurt me fucking sucks. I want to be done.
I have literally been sober way too fucking long. This shit is ridiculous.
I don’t want him to go. In fact, I want him to climb in with me, to be there when the nightmares hit tonight. For some reason that I can’t quite form, I know I’m not allowed to ask that. “Don’t go yet. Not until I fall asleep,” I say. Peeta sits on the side of the bed, warming my hand in both of his. “Stay with me.” As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a work back, but I don’t quite catch it. - Catching Fire.
(Source: mellarkia, via thelasttributestanding)
I just really can’t stand anybody but myself.
I hate conversing or being in the same room with anybody now because it’s the end of school and I’m stressed about everything. I just wanna be by myself but I get lonely after 5 minutes. And I physically can’t handle Dear John tonight. It’s so fucking sad. And Savannah’s a bitch about John re-enlisting after FUCKING 9/11.
My heart feels so heavy in my chest. I hate the way depressing movies make me feel but then again I love it at the same time. I wish I had my own John.
