sacrificed13
plaid skirts and school girls. Scots and the English. Those ugly sweaters your grandma knits around Christmas time. thats what i think when i think of plaid.
I would love to ride in pink limosine with a bottle of champagne and a beauty magazine.
I felt the pain deep in my bones. My muscles screamed as my skin seemed to pull tighter.
Success is a relative term. it means what you want it to mean. If you think successful means you are good at something or if you think successful means you are amazing at something.
The isue with plans is they never turn out the way the way you plan for them to. Like a day at the beach, something always goes wrong.
I have a purpose. I don' know what it is, but i know it exists.
i am not trusted. i have no friends. No family. I am a killer. I have no love to give. And none to take. You will die.
writing since 2011 · 7 entries · 7 days shown up
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