#462.
So I'm sitting at work reading Frankie and there's this article about what they would tell their children. I end up just sitting there smiling freakishly to myself with the influence of Frankie's writers under wing because they are young. They understand. And one day they are going to make either great or horrible parents. Their advice seems like something I would dream of. And then my mum yells at me and asks why I'm so ignorant and stupid and there goes my good mood.

In conclusion, I am now in bed with a scrunched up expression trying to cheer myself up with Feist and my tea time tank top. Wow that's a mouth full. Teatimetanktop teatimetanktop. Okay shut the fuck up Tien.
No but seriously, I'm actually really under the weather right now it's just not quite coming through in my typing. Brills. Goodnight I am uncapped much browsing to catch up on.

PS this weekend may be have been the beginning of the end and I'm regretting my stupidity and that look on your face was just not worth anything. I really miss you and I'm sorry if this ends up screwing us over.
All those strange philosophical inspiring phrases seem to have some sort of surreal effect on me right now. Like they apply to reality but to some alternate form of reality where everything works out in the end. Merge, bitches. Merge.


Really really starting to like this font.

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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