#240.
Don't you just fucking love it, bloody fucking love it, when someone you're really close to, starts talking about someone who they're really close to. The way they talk about them, "oh I'm so close to her, but I don't think she sees me as a best friend like that," Well you know what? I'm the one sitting here listening to you complain about how much you want her to be..
Your best friend? What the fuck just happened?

So while I sit here listening to complaining about how much your best friend doesn't think of you as a best friend, I wonder what the hell I mean to you. See, there I was thinking after all these weeks, these months of your confiding your trust and problems with me, that maybe you saw me as a best friend. But now I'm really beginning to doubt it. Maybe you just see me as a venting space. Come to me when you're pissed, when you're depressed, to let it all out on me, because you don't want to hurt the people you really do care about.

Well guess the fuck what. I don't have to put up with you.
And I'm not going to be jealous of your 'best friend'. I'm not.

Oh fuck it, I am.

Hello, this is Tien. This blog is the remains of the unconventional cliches and angsty phrases of my teenage years. (Plus a new one every now and then)
I ♥ Phoenix, (500) days of summer, double entendres, unmade beds, autumn, Chopin, syncopated melodies, G7 chords and things that make me feel.

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