I was creeping on your tumblog like a supercreep and noticed that you live on the east coast of Canada! I'm from goofy newfieland, er newfoundland. I'm not sure of the importance of this statement, so you know just whatever. :')
Canada gets you an insta-follow!
(plus your blog is pretty cool!)
You’re actually the first Canadian I’ve encountered on here really! I’m all excited and stuff now :D
You get captured in Germany by a crazy scientist guy. He says he's going to put you into a human catapillar. But because you follow instructions well, he's given you the opportunity to choose where you want to be stitched.
So. Front, milddle or end? Death is not an option.
There’s no way I want my face stitched to some strangers ass.
I never let people get to me, that's why I get called a bitch.
I guess my disease isn't that big of a deal, I have Crohn's disease, causes me to drop weight, excessive going to the bathroom and I have to inject my medicine.
I get made fun of for using the bathroom to much, or people call me a heroine addict for injecting.
Not letting people get to you, doesn’t make you a bitch. It just makes you a lot stronger than a lot of people. Anything is a big deal when mockery is involved if you ask me.
People just need to grow up. You keep being you, and ignoring them, and hopefully, they’ll move on.
You were good to me at first, we had plenty of laughs you and I. You introduced me to a lot of people. We were good together. But then you started ditching me all the time. Only co-operating when it suited your mood, getting angry at me a lot, telling me what I was and wasn’t allowed to do. Cutting me off when I was in the middle of something, or getting rid of my stuff without permission. That’s not cool. But, I stayed with you. I felt comfortable being with you, everything was familiar, and simple. Until you wouldn’t let me in, you said I was doing something illegal when I wasn’t. You know me, we’ve been together since I bought you in the store, I’d never do something like that. But I gave up on you today, I’ve finally had it.
I’ve found someone new. He’s called Linux, and he treats me good. Sure, we had a bit of an issue with communication, I couldn’t hear him, he couldn’t hear me. But we worked through it, and we hear each other just fine. He’s good to me. He doesn’t kick me out, or tell me what to do. He prefers my opinion, he listens to what I have to say, and what I want. He doesn’t get me sick, and I don’t have to use protection when I want to be with him. We do all the same stuff as you and I did. But it’s better with him. I’m happier now.