Well, I'll be damned.
I really don't know what to say anymore.
I don't know what to write, what to say, what to fucking feel, for gods' sake, out of fear of being branded vile or unsuccessful.
Hell, I can't even gather my scattered thoughts enough to write something that is even half decent - let alone mildly interesting.
I feel distrustful, though I should've seen it coming from he beginning. What a big kick in the bollocks, though. I was aware that things weren't like they used to be, but I didn't know something as pathetic as this could happen. What a deplorable, pitiful thing to do.
I guess I don't give a flying fuck (swearing intended) if I get in trouble now. You show them mine, I show them yours.
I've come to realise, over the years, that sob stories do actually get you places. You get on TV because of them, you get votes because of them, you get the whole fucking world on your side because of them, you warp people's views of others because of them.
Could a drastic change have anything to do with this? I think not. They were the same superficial thing they were before.
I've just had an epiphany (ooh, big word, go look it up); I don't need to hang around, and listen to the mindless, dumb warbles of a low life. Screw it. I'll be the one that goes into the crowd knowing who they are. Soon enough, I'll be the one with friends. You won't.

So, next time you go snivelling to the authoritys about how someone is bullying you, ruining your life and how you are the perfect angel, think of this; you'll be the fake. Not them. You might not be failure, but you'll get to watch the other fail in life because of what you did. You lying piece of trashy scum.

Until next time, mes foncés.