my place.
I know my blog is dead. Rarely, or never has pictures. I blog boring stuffs. Still, I love to blog eventhough I know there might even be nobody reading my blog. Oh well, I blog to express anyway. Not to impress.
So if you find my blog is boring and lame or too emo, dont bother criticising because I wont give a shit about it.

I feel like killing myself doing this fucking essay. Fucking irritating when you dont know if what you find online can be trusted or not, and the books you need is fucking gone. All on loan, none left and you have nothing to refer to. Fuck assignments. Fuck projects. Fuck school. I want my holidays, to be a real holiday but so far it doesnt look like it. Nabey deng deng.

And some people just dont understand how sensitive I can be. Furthermore after the whole lot of mess in my mind about my fucking essay which is due in two weeks time. Go on and get mad at me. Let's try me making you feel guilty and then I say I was just joking around. What the fuck? Think first can. Go get mad at me more. Kill me if you want so that you dont have to tolerate my sensitiveness and childishness.

I fucking dont feel like going to work later at six. I have yet to bathe and I dont feel like doing so. I have work to do and when I have the mood, things always come in my way. This goes especially to work. And when I'm not working, I'll never even bother to touch it open. What the fuck am I thinking?

Fuck life and everything around me and about me. I have never been the best and I'll never be good enough for everything. Fuck fuck fuckaneneh cibaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaai........


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