#236.
There are things you just hate. Things every fucking body just hates. Like bad hair days, mosquitoes and bitches. Well you know what I hate? I hate people like you. People that think they're all that, people who don't shut the fuck up about themselves and would do anything, well almost anything, to fit in. Honey, it's not your scene. We all know it's not, so why are you even trying? God. I seriously want to hit you. Fark I sound bitchy.



When you ask me if I like anyone, I clam up. I clam and my brain goes into overdrive to think of a word that isn't 'YOU'. So I make something up. I make up someone that doesn't exist, and a backstory as to why he infatuates me. Which he doesn't. Because you do. And sometimes I wish I could seriously just go up to you, and say, 'I like you' without the fear of rejection and everything that comes with it. Although I don't know what would come after that because a relationship hardly sounds plausible.
Like I said, I'll probably just admire you from a distance, because your glow is better complimented by ones other than mine. Ok, wtf, Tien.

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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