This week i've been wondering: why does every single thing i say make me sound like i am tripping on acid?
Happy ever after in the market place...
Desmond lets the children lend a hand...
Molly stays at home and does her pretty face...
And in the evening she still sings it with the band...
Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, brah!...
Lala how the life goes on...
Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, brah!...
Lala how the life goes on.
--------------------------------------------------------------------Still obsessed with being Pocahontas hahaha oh well.I don't mind being Wednesday Addams :')



/derpherp

And this is school




Put up a new header :)Just to distract you guys since i'm too lazy to update now/cunning fox





Time to cut my hair before i become bald completely ;_;

My room is so unsightly oh goshbutdon't judge me i was packing my desk the night before okayand this bedsheet was sewn by my grandma like 34 years ago lulzand my metal cupboard was from my dad's old company like 20 years agoi feel like an antique collectorOH and my wardrobe has been around for a loooooong loooong time idek

I've been a proper mugger, okay




Listening to the beatles and nirvana instead of mugging /failThe exams are just three days away ;_;AND I NOSEBLED LAST NIGHT i don't care how you feel i'm going to post a picture hahahahaha

“I am the girl who is lost in space, the girl who is disappearing always, forever fading away and receding farther and farther into the background. Just like the Chesire cat, someday I will suddenly leave, but the artificial warmth of my smile, that phony, clownish curve, the kind you see on miserably sad people and villains in Disney movies, will remain behind as an ironic remnant. I am the girl you see in the photograph from some party someplace or some picnic in the park, the one who looks to very vibrant and you look at the picture again, I want to assure you, I will no longer be there. I will be erased from history, like a traitor in the Soviet Union. Because with everyday that goes by, I feel myself becoming more and more invisible, getting covered over more thickly and darkness, coats and coats of darkness that are going to suffocate me in the sweltering heat of the summer that I can’t even see anymore, even though I can feel it burn.”
— Prozac Nation