Here is a big fuck you to all the 0 friends that invited me to spend New Years with them…really fucking appreciate it. Assholes.
The first 365 to reblog will get their url written in a piece of paper and put on a jar. Everyday I’ll choose one send them a nice message and a promo or fan sign.
Whoever reblogs this by Christmas Eve at 8 pm eastern time will get a Christmas message from me based on their blog. I’ll do every single one, which probably won’t be a problem since I expect this to get like 2 notes. If it gets 52724181925 notes I’ll still do them all though. Sooooooo… reblog the thing. It’ll be nice to have a nice ask on Christmas morning, right?
I HOLD YOU TO THIS.
I want this to happen because it would be magical
OKAY GUYS I HAVE DECIDED TO DO A THING
AND I DO MEAN EVERYONE
WHO REBLOGS THIS UNTIL THE 20TH
GETS A CHRISTMAS GIFT MADE BY ME
ACCORDING TO THEIR BLOGS
You don’t need to do ANYTHING ut reblog ! Seriously i don’t care if you follow me or not. i WILL make EVERYONE something !
So yay !
"One day, he’s going to know. He’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parents names. He’ll know how old you were when you learnt to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. He’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. He’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. He’s going to know why you’re awake at 5am most nights, where you were when you realised you’d lost a good friend, why you picked up the razor and how you managed to put it down before things went too far. He’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your parents. He’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. He’s going to know about your love for mayonnaise, your dream of being famous when you were five, your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and your fear of growing older. He’ll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it’s his favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. He’s going to know that you’ve already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. He’s going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, take twenty minutes to order a Starbucks, have to organise your DVD’s alphabetically, and check your horoscope… just incase. He’ll know your McDonald’s order, how many sugars to put in your tea, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. He’s going to know how you feel without you telling him, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. He’s going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. He’s going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else? He is still going to love you."
"I’m a paradox. I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad. I’m lazy, yet I’m ambitious. I don’t like myself, but I also love who I am. I say I don’t care, but I really do. I crave attention, but reject it when it comes my way. I’m a conflicted contradiction. If I can’t figure myself out, there’s no way anyone else has."
I’m writing my essay on cyber-bullying right now
and there was this article that said “anon hate hurts us because when we read it, we don’t hear the attacker’s voice, we hear our own”
and that’s a really good observation.