I hate my house.
//notice I don't say "home"//
Doesn't feel like one. Why? I have a pair of "can't find the right word to use at the moment" parents.
They dig out your wardrobe and tells you that you can't buy any more clothes.
I told you all haven't I? Whatever makes me happy, irks them.
Aren't they supposed to be the one buying my clothes for me? Now I buy it for myself, what right have they got?
I've always wanted to give up, but I realize I've got a hell lot of fuckers waiting for me to prove the wrong.
Hence, I'm still fucking alive.
Well guess what? If you don't allow me to have any clothes at this hell hole of a house, fine with me, I'll keep it at my friend's, that is VERY near my house.
Will do.
That'll do. All I have to do is speak to my friend's, Dreamatomy's , understanding parents, to have a wardrobe at her house(:
Then I will buy a hell lot of clothes and stuff it there.
Whenever I need to change, will just head over to her house.
It'll be a much better home, much better place to be in, rather than this fucking hell of a house.
You can't stay happy for more than a minute.
Oh and I'm currently obsessed with dresses, AND this model up there, she's really so beautiful.
Okay period, will see ya soon(:
2 September 2013
Singapore




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