Nobody knows the real me. Nobody knows how many times I’ve sat in my room and cried, how many times I’ve lost hope, how many times I’ve been let down. Nobody knows how many times I’ve had to hold back the tears, how many times I’ve felt like I’m about to snap but don’t just for the sake of others, how many times I’ve felt like running away. Nobody knows the thoughts that go through my head whenever I’m sad, how horrible they truly are. Nobody knows me, and thats what I hate the most.
(Source: -don'tforgetme)
Ugh. I hate this “tell me who i’d look good with in a relationship”
How about your mothers anus.
Looks aren’t important in this world, i’d rather have a not so good looking guy on my arm, who loves me for who i am, inside and out, who protects me, cares about me and who treats me right, rather than some shallow, small minded, egotistical piece of degenerate shit people go for these days.
It’s not all about arm candy :)
Just had to say this.
