Lyrics of the moment: Dearest enemy: you should have never trusted me, you bitch.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

I Just.

Third grade. Third fucking grade. That was the last time I could look in the mirror and think, Hey, I look kinda good. And third grade was when no one cared.

Third. Fucking. Grade. It started in fourth. And I don't think I've looked at myself and liked what I saw once since then.

God damn it. Now I feel like such a hypocrite. What kind of person does Operation Beautiful notes that hates how they look with a burning, fiery passion?

I want to say I don't care, I really do. But I have to admit, everyone has to admit: even though the inside *counts*, the outside's what *matters* in this world. So if you don't have a nice outside? You're fucked with everything. So I'm fucked.

(I bet if I had either never been born or had been born with a dick instead it'd be easier. -sigh-)