#252.
Do you ever get that paranoid feeling? The one that just constantly tells you, "Hey, they don't want to talk to you, stop it,"? The tiny little voice inside your head that doubts your worth. Well, I get it every freaking time I talk to you. Which is often. So, fuck me, I am going to hell. Even though it's the fact that you're talking to me. Which screws me up, royally. Js.


I thought of something to blog about earlier, but I'm experiencing complete mental fart right now. The bundle of assignments I'd forgotten we had over the holidays just began looming over me, and I am pretty much just shitting myself trying to get them all done. Wish me luck. Or not, either way I'll probably die.


Is it just me or do i sound cockier than usual? S: Ohfkthis. Image flood!










Just for the record. You have a way of telling that little voice to stfu. Maybe that's why I think about you so much. "Reminiscing" as it were.

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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