Oh wow. I feel somewhat proud of this. I mean, this is SO not me.
Which means that the chances are lower that someone will actually find me out.
And you know, it stinks to be forgotten. Downright stinks. It burns you up inside. And the ironic thing is this is somebody who supposedly loved me. LoveD me. Loves me no more.
Well, I still love you, you little creep.
Oh wait. I mean,
you fat lump of lazyness and feigned concern and high ambitions and broken promises and short term memory and careless words and immature perspectives and inconceivable zealousness for God and pride with no hopes of relent and what my friends call plainly, IRRESPONSIBLE.
I guess I was too kind in defending you before.
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