it’s 2014 why do boys still think girls like the smell of axe
it’s 2014 why do girls think boys like the smell of overpowering fruity floral perfume
It’s been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in. Titanic was called the Ship of Dreams. And it was. It really was.
I feel like a fucking piece of trash.
I feel useless. I feel nothing but a piece of fat meat. Because, in the end, that’s what people really see. That I’m fat. All my other qualities and my other imperfections are ecplised by the fact that I’m fat.
I hate my body. I hate my face. I hate the way I talk. I hate the way I walk.
I HATE MYSELF.