fav

this will always be my favorite photo. in my darkest days, when I am angry and confused, I will look at this photo and become angrier because I will start laughing and you're not supposed to laugh in serious situations. then I will keep on looking at this photo and cry because I am so angry but then I will cry so much and laugh at the same time so it will be craffing and when you craff you don't feel so bad anymore. 

open letter to grass

dear grass,

why did you/do you think i like someone when you said that during the sleepover did my face say something or something or a lil' sumthin sumthin
just wondering but not really just wondering
more of a concern than a wondering

sincerely,
garls

and now, we wait

this is so surreal
and so damn anticlimactic

-grass

grass: needs mowing

I think I just have this inherent inability to refrain from being sarcastic. I'm not sure if you know what I mean. But half the time (ok, more than half), I'll say something, and then I'll regret it. Like a millisecond later. Like before it even comes out of my mouth.

And that happens a lot, especially when I'm around you guys. But I never ever meant it in a way to hurt you or anyone (and no, this is not directed towards you).

But how do I stop? I never think before I say anything. Sigh.

On another note, this week will be pure hell. And then next week... next week will be bliss. Thank God for Thanksgiving. That is what I'll be thankful for during Thanksgiving.

Also, boy problems. I don't want to tell anyone this because it makes me seem like some insensitive and pretentious douche, which [I hope] I'm not. But I feel as if I deserve better, that I at least deserve someone who will care enough to call once in a while, someone who will put me first for once. Because even when I'm with my friends, I'll stay take just one second to text him back. And I wouldn't bail on someone ten minutes before we were supposed to hang out.

I forgive him for that-I really do. But all I'm saying is that I would have never done that. And I think I deserve someone who would do the same for me-someone who cares enough to treat me the same way I'd treat him.

I've never told anyone this, ever. But when we first started hanging out (like during lunch and stuff), we would walk back from behind the small gym because he wouldn't want his friends to see. Since they sat in the courtyard.

And that was just the most horrible feeling ever. I hated him-I really did. But I couldn't help but like him? Maybe I was drawn to his tallness and niceness, but really, he's a phony. I feel like Holden Caulfield or something, but he's such a goddamn phony. Does he even have a personality? There's a difference between being nice and being yourself; I don't think anyone is shallow enough as a human to merely be "nice" and "pleasant" all the time. He never showed me his true self, and maybe it's for the better. Because I think inside, he might not be all that great. Or maybe I'm just bitter.

-Grass

hmm

if only I had spent all the time I used hating, bashing, gossiping, and hurting people to love them.
(no this is not directly related to you grass)
i guess I'll stop with the "if only's" and try to start tomorrow

and looking back,

I want to write something very deep but I don't know where to begin. I just saw your last post, grass.

And....yeah. We made it. Or maybe I should say, I made it, since I was the one who was kind of teary and emotional and sensitive and moody the entire time. I think you probably already made it, and it took me longer to realize. Or perhaps we really both did make it, at the same time.

What am I saying. I don't know. But I'm happy that we're still friends. I think the friendship that really gets tested and is still able to survive those rugged waters even after coming out battered and bruised is a wonderful friendship. Yeah... yeah. Thank you. Thank you.

i just now saw your post

we were, are, am, will be, still are best friends

there are ups and downs in every friendship

and i'm sorry if you felt neglected

there was so much going on and so little time

i know you don't want to talk to me / be great friends / misc. anymore

but i still do

i still care for you and cherish you and

thank you

for everything

-grass

ugh

my mom walked in the dorr

YOU CANT HEAR THE MUSIC THOUGH

4/24/13

eic tom

for some reason, I'm not scared.
yeah.
i'm not scared. even i I say I am scared or nervous, I'm not. I don't know why. I should be scared. I should be nervous.
But I'm fine.
and after tomorrow, maybe I'll shed some tears, maybe I won't. but everything will be okay in the end.

Reassured, reassured, always reassured.
God is good all the time FORREALS
anyway pastor quoc made a joke today at church about those three best friends who went through the fire, meshak, somethingelseshak, and abedhigo or something.
and he kept on saying a-bad-nigo
did not get joke until later
but i thought it was really funny

maybe

Maybe you'll see this tomorrow. Maybe you'll see this in a year, in ten years. Maybe never. Maybe you never even meant to check on this website but you accidentally typed gr- and then [enter] and this showed up. Or maybe someone will talk about grass or garlic and you remembered this. Or maybe you thought of me and you came here. Or maybe you remember you had a mutual dead blog with someone else. Or maybe something just propelled you to bring you here. Or maybe you'll be fine. You'll be fine. And for me, perhaps it will take me a little bit longer. Yes...longer. Or maybe you don't understand. Maybe the words I try to say and show my feelings through just can't reach you, like a short kid trying to reach a cookie jar. Maybe I can't express the things I want to say because I get flustered.  Maybe if I understood. Maybe if you asked.Maybe I should tell you about the tears. Maybe not. Maybe I should  just wait. Maybe I should be patient like I learned at fellowship group today. Or maybe I should be looking. But I don't want to look. I don't want to have to shift my heart and drag it up a notch from where it's currently lodged.

But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm wrong about now. But then maybe I was wrong about the time? Maybe it should have been 2 am instead  2 pm? 

there is so much i want to say
so much i want to do
but i just end up doing
none of the two

Prom, prom, prom, prom

Deep down somewhere in my heart is the desire to be asked to prom. Quite honestly I'm still afraid to go alone. I know I'll have fun, but I'm still scared. Photos and such will be awkward.

love.

Love is not about how you feel, it's about giving.

So Pastor Quoc was talking about this on Sunday...and I guess it kind of struck me. For a while now I've been trying to love people because I'm supposed to, or for the sake of being "the good daughter" "the good friend" or "the good whatever." Came back to school today, and life is tough. Not gonna lie. I feel that life is tough, and my heart feels all tightened and hardened the minute I walk through the doors. I remember before break, I was asking the questions, what about me? What about how I feel? Why do I feel like I'm hurting? Why me....again God?

This quote is something I'm going to keep close on my mind and closer to my heart. It's going to be a tough week....but...love is giving. Love is the hellos and the smiles and the laughs and the support. Yes, the support even if you don't understand or don't comprehend, it's not giving up until the end - or making sure there is no end, even if it's the tiniest thread around...it's still a thread.

Love is giving, love is pursuing, love is strength.

I guess I was jealous. Maybe that's why it bothered me so much i guess. I guess. I guess because I don't really understand.

what we hate the most about others is what he hate the most about ourselves

trying to stop this

sick

Whenever my parents are sick I suddenly feel more responsible. I don't know. I actually try to focus on my work and get things done on time.

poems

I sit in the very last seat in Mr.Breiger's class, next to a tall cabinet. On the cabinet, he stuck a couple poems that students wrote in the beginning of the year. I used to dislike the poems. They were unpolished and ugly,  just paragraphs split up into choppy lines. But everyday I read them. I've probably read each of them at least 50 times. And each time, I begin to like the poem more. I begin to see how people spill truth into their writing, and it's beautiful.

haikool by garlic

mom bought good kimchi
ate until my throat was sore
now i cannot talk

summation of my feelings

moue it kinda sucks why WHY i know this will never happen but WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY why WHY

moue

WHY!

curse my emotions
curse me
!!!!!!
''-grass

haiku by grass

eyes slowly closing
went to eat sweet tomatoes
i have food coma

i'm scared we're going to lose each other

i can rap

garlic --

it must be rather tough

i would be feelin' like it's quite enough

i don't understand why life always happens to you

but i pray that you wipe away your tears and that you get through

your anger is probably like a pot of boiling soup

but your sadness is like the morning dew (um)

you're really cool for doing the right thing

for being vocal and not letting cheating swing

one day you will conquer them all

all the lying all the cheating all the hatred with a saw

maybe not

maybe you'll conquer it all with love

a gift from our Father from above

this rap is not really a rap

so i think i better scrap 

it and give it a wrap

ok

ko

peace

i think i like someone help me plz i am dying no why me wh y now but he sis funny si he fnny id k and also i think he has a girlfriend HAHhahhHAHHhahhHAHHHAHhhahhHAHhhahhHAHhahAHH

the most exciting thing that has happened this year

you go gurl

my feelings

My heart skipped a beat when I was reading this post from writingsforwinter. It spoke, no, shouted, to me. I have never, ever related so much to a piece of writing.

on loneliness and the powers of observation

I used to be afraid that I would grow up to be one of those “crazy cat ladies” with 50 cats and baggy dresses who drink tea every day, the kind of woman who lives by herself in a tiny, cramped apartment and knits all the time. It took me a long time to realize that loneliness does not necessarily strike a person when they’re alone-it can strike them in a room full of people. And then I realized that while I like cats, I would never want to own more than one, and I love dresses but not baggy ones, and I hate tea because it makes me want to throw up, and I have no idea how to knit and probably never will.

But I’ve always been billed as the shy girl in class, the kind who should “raise her hand more” or who “needs to participate to a greater extent in class discussions.” Or at least that’s who I used to be. But I think those demands are shit, to be honest. If you are considered shy, you’re probably not shy; you’re an observer. You see things and you notice them, then you hold them inside you. And like that you keep them alive. Sometimes when I introduce myself to another person at school, I pretend not to know their name, when really I’ve known it already for a few years. I don’t want to be misconstrued as creepy, but I can’t help it. A name is just a detail, and details are something I’m good at.

Some people can’t remember what they ate for breakfast that very day, or even what color of shirt they were wearing the day before. I ate two slices of toast this morning with peanut butter, and had a bowl of Cap’n Crunch with milk. I wore a white sweatshirt yesterday. Being an observer is sometimes much better than being a participator, because it allows you to stand away from the action and begin to understand it. Observation is a kind of science in and of itself, almost a philosophy. It’s a way of life. I study human beings and I like to get inside their heads and figure out what they’re thinking, but more importantly, why they think the way they do. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It doesn’t mean I’m shy; it means I understand people more deeply than the so-called “normal individual.”

Maybe I got it from my father. He always talks about wanting to know what peoples’ “stories” are, where they came from, how they grew up, what happened to them, etc. Whenever he drives by a stranger in the car, whether they’re jogging or lugging grocery bags or walking along talking on their cell phone, he always turns his head literally ninety degrees or more to stare at them. The staring part bothers me-because some people can feel that stare from outside the car windows, and some people notice the staring. It makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like being looked at, even for a few brief seconds. Whenever someone makes eye contact with me for an unnecessarily long period of time, I turn away.

Yet I love to look at other people. But only when they’re not looking back.

Strangers fascinate me. I could dissect them all day; put them under a microscope like a fly’s wing on a glass slide and study them for hours. Each and every stranger has their own history; some are more intricate than others’; some are 50 pages long while others’ are 1,036. The life history of a single individual should be offered as a course in college. I’d take it in a heartbeat. Human beings are fascinating creatures because they live inside their own heads. They make their home there, sometimes without even realizing it.

But you can’t pay rent on the mind, or hire someone to keep it clean. You can’t make its beds or close its cupboards or sweep its stairs. The mind gets rusty and dirty sometimes, and it grows weak and tired and afraid. People don’t just break sometimes; they shatter.

I once read that “real loneliness is not necessarily limited to when you are alone.” And that’s true. Because even when I’m surrounded by crowds of people in the hallway, even as I’m noticing their clothes and hair and the way they snap their gum, or how tired they look to be lugging that heavy backpack around, I can still feel as alone as if I were sitting in the middle of a completely white room. No windows, no doors, no exit. No other person in there with me.

Observation really is a lonely science, just like photography is a lonely medium. They both consist of capturing peoples’ souls and essences. So while I’ve gotten over my fear of ending up as the crazy cat lady, as some may call her, I’ve never quite been able to rid myself of the fear of being alone. It’s an innate feeling. I don’t think it ever goes away. But it’s made me who I am today, and for that, I am grateful.

One day I shall submit this to a poetry contest...but for now

This is purely fictional.

And that statement is a lie.

Unrequited Love is such a fancy word. I can't say I've experienced it, but I still like the thought of it. "Unrequited Love."

Unrequited love is a door crack. When winter arrives, the cold wind blows in and nibbles on my toes.
Unrequited love is a sixth grade boy with hair too long that covers his beautiful eyes. The boy with a cheesy, chunky smile and skinny tree limbs. The boy who you helped cheat on that English test, and when you both got back the highest scores, the only feeling was shame.
Unrequited love is attending a funeral for the boy's little brother whom you've never met.
Unrequited love is a heavy heart -- after all, you didn't go for the brother, you went for the boy. You just wanted to see the boy.
Unrequited love is staring at his back when he's in front of you in the classroom line. It's wondering what he ate for dinner last night.
Unrequited love is the stories you told each other. It's the pain transferred when his best friend tells you the boy is not at school because a family member has cancer.
Unrequited love is watching him as he smiles to another girl and sits next to her during the math session. It's challenging him to a game of basketball -- after all, it's the only thing you know.
Unrequited love is thinking about him. Not really thinking about being together, but just wondering Wonder what he's doing.
Unrequited love is bawling your eyes out in the library during recess in front of your three best sixth grade friends because another girl asked him if he liked you, and he said he never did. And then it's denying you never liked him.
Unrequited love is not looking at him anymore and walking down the fifth grade hallway so you will not have to meet his glance.
Unrequited love is awkward air that only you think exists.
Unrequited love is remembering all these things six years later.
Unrequited love is not a longing, not a desire for the spotlight, not even recognition. It's a motion picture. It's a record of the pass, but living and breathing 30 feet away from you. It's watching him through the lens of a camera, snapping away photos not for personal use, but for the school newspaper. But you know you'll have to look through them anyway.
Unrequited love is breakfast on a calm, sunny morning.
Unrequited love is forgetting what he looks like, but remembering his voice. And noticing the change in that voice.
Unrequited love is seeing how his handwriting has not changed at all.
Unrequited love is the moon -- lonely -- sitting in the sky, waiting for sun. Expect sun and moon are rarely seen together, and if they are, never right next to each other.
Unrequited love is a sigh. Not one of frustration, but a meek one that can lull you to sleep.
Unrequited love is writing about him, but not wanting to meet him again.
Unrequited love is bittersweet ice cream on a windy day spent watching the sea and seagulls.  It's a polite Facebook message. It's wondering if you should say hello in the hallway. It's wondering if he will just be a name, just a character reference in past stories. Unrequited love is wondering, not hopeless or hopeful, just a simple wondering.

Cherished Thoughts

Wise words from one of my favorite Tumblr blogs, writingsforwinter. I cried while reading this.

Anonymous: I think i am going to kill myself tonight. 

Listen to me. I can’t make you stay but I can tell you what you might miss. There are so many good things if you look hard enough for them. There’s always darkness but if there’s darkness then there has to be light, too. You can’t have one thing without the other.
My uncle died of brain cancer almost a year ago. He could have undergone chemotherapy but he chose not to because he knew he would die anyway.
My uncle did not have a choice about whether or not he would die.
You do.
I know this sadness shakes you up, it fucks you up inside, and you feel like a broken windowpane. Windowpanes can be replaced.
You can’t be.
I don’t know how old you are or your gender or your sexuality or your life history. But if you kill yourself you are removing one precious human life from this world. Someone thinks about you every night. Every goddamn night. Now let’s pretend they think about you five minutes each night. You take that number and you multiply it by the number of days in a year, and that’s a whole lotta goddamn minutes they spend thinking about you.
You’re worth it to someone. Not just you, not just who you are or what you say or what you look like, but your life. Your life is worth it to them.
And let me tell you something. Your life is worth it to me, too. Otherwise I would not be writing you this. Think of everything that’s out there-road trips, lazy Sunday mornings in bed, hot chocolate on cold winter nights, graduation, college, marriages, kids, grandchildren, growing old with the one you love. That’s a lot to miss.
Things can change. This can change. This will change. Sadness does not last forever.
I read a quote once, and I don’t remember where it was from, but it said that over 90% of people who have jumped off a bridge (Golden Gate, Brooklyn, whichever) trying to kill themselves, and they survived, said that in the exact moment their feet left the bridge they regretted it. They regretted it in that split second.
A spit second can be enough to change your mind. Those people survived, and you know what? I’ve read so many stories about failed suicides who said they are glad they did not kill themselves. Because they would have missed out on so much.
You’re not selfish in any way to want to kill yourself. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that. You are not a coward.
But what you are is a beautiful, unique, aching person who’s got a pretty damn big heart, and I know that because you showed me that. You showed me that by writing to me and I know your heart wants you to tell someone; I know your heart wants to let this out and it wants help.
Don’t let that heart stop beating tonight.
Or tomorrow night. Or the night after that. Or the next night and the next night and the next night and all the nights to come.
This is the biggest choice of your life. And that life is a precious thing.
Please don’t end it.

A little scared

I know I did the right thing.
I don't regret anything.
But I'm a little scared.
I wish I didn't tell you guys, garlic. 
I told my parents, and they told me not to tell anyone. That there's a reason for anonymity. 
Because people who are willing to cheat are willing to do other things too.
Because I live in the real world where revenge is real.
What if they find out?
What if they do something to me?

I was always one of the people who waited for other people to do the right thing.

This time, that "other person" is me.

I did the right thing. 

So why do I feel this way?

-grass

Pieces of me

Im too tired to enlighten the nonexistent readers of this blog, so enjoy a small collection of photos displaying some tidbits from my life.

Peace out.

-Grass

Brutal Honesty // #1

I've been thinking a lot lately.

This is it.

After this Saturday, I will be halfway done with junior year.

Was it as bad as people make it out to be?

Yes, and it's not even half over.

Will I look back and reminisce about the good ol' high school days?

That can only be inferred (although I'm leaning towards a pretty strong "NO" right now).

I guess I've always just wanted to be who I really am. 

I'ver never really exposed myself, metaphorically speaking.

I'm constantly hiding behind a shield.

I'm scared.

I don't know why.

But there's something holding me back, something holding all us introverts back.

Because I know we have things to say.

We have bloody brilliant things to say.

So why can't I?

I'm self conscious.

Everyone is, and I've gotten a lot better, but I am still exceedingly self conscious.

Sometimes I don't even feel like I can look people in the eye.

I feel fat, I feel ugly, I feel insecure.

We all do.

I don't want people to judge me.

I hide this by putting on a facade. I act like I don't care. I act tough.

But I'm not.

I guess none of us really are. 

I want to be able to say something without feeling self conscious.

I want the world to hear what I have to say.

But the sad and cold fact is that I probably won't do anything about it.

I don't want to be remembered as the girl who was soft spoken and "nice" or "quiet."

I hate those words.

I want to be remembered as someone who wasn't afraid to say something. I don't want to be different-I simply want to be me.

It's scary, really, to think that I could actually stop shielding myself. It's scary to think that people would like me for who I actually am, for what I believe in.

I just want to leave a positive impact on this world.

Let's face it-we're nothing.

Why did God even create me? I feel as if I will never accomplish anything worthwhile.

I sometimes still have doubt.

I still find it hard to believe that He created me simply to love me. I'm really not that lovable. I don't even love myself. I say I do, but I don't. After all, what is there to do but laugh our feelings away? Who likes to talk about feelings? Who cares? Nobody, that's who.

I haven't found anyone I'm truly comfortable talking to.

No one wants to talk to you unless you're going to talk about cheerful and easygoing topics. Or if they can laugh at you.

It's understandable.

We're young.

We're naive.

-grass

There's something chilling about this blank slate.

it shouldn't matter

so many things should not matter, but i still care about them.
there are so many things i should not care about, but i think about them.
there are things i should not think about, but i focus on them.

#iloveyougrassdontfret

i do not know why am i bothered. why i feel so sad. but there's this girl named juliana in our grade who's a mormon. and it just make me so sad/angry/ugh/why/no/please. she used to be a christian, and now she's a mormon. she brings her friends to church with her, and like converting them. and it just bothers me so dang much.
it makes me sad to know that she thought she knew the truth, but she didn't, so she found something else, and i srsly feel like she's just out there tryna to convert everyone or something. b/c mormon believe conversion is the only way to heaven.
but it just makes me so dang sad.
so damn sad.
i don't know. it's just so sad. probably because i used to think of talking to her about God. just talking to her, you know. and i didn't. and now the regret is pouring in, because she found something else, and she's converting others to mormonism...if that's a word.
i don't know much about mormons...but i know that it's not the truth. b/c one time mrs.hull was talking in class, and she said: it just doesn't make sense to me...why God would do that. like why would he not be angry at people? why would he be so kind and forgiving?

it was just heartbreaking.. she doesn't know that God is love, and Love is God. she doesn't know who He is..you know..and that just...drives me crazy. i want to tell her, maybe after i graduate, but then like...ugh. idk. #yolooe
 you only live once on earth

why am i so bothered by this? idk.
i should be right? it's her choice right?
but i can't stop feeling this nagging in my chest
sigh-

analysis of recent grassy feels

A detailed analysis as to why I feel so downtrodden these days:

Possible hypotheses:

• father is on business trip
• chem grade
• stress from sat + chem + badminton

Hypothesis:

• combined factors of the above three

Observations:

• obsession with checking School Loop
• frantic studying for Organic Chem
• repeated thoughts of failure
• whimsical thoughts of philosophy and the purpose of life
• hatred towards idiotic individuals
• exasperation with people
• jealousy of carefree people
• obsessive calculations of grades

Possible Solutions:

• after Friday, my life will be ok again
• unless I fail
• only time
• TIME
• IS
• PRICELESSSSSSSSSSS
• communication with family + friends
• i miss my dad
• why do i miss him so much?
• i don't know he just went to korea and i didn't miss him at all lolz maybe because that time I was doing very poorly oh RIGHT I JUST GOT MY SAT SCORE AND WAS TOO ENGULFED IN MY OWN GRIEF
• time management!

Things to remember:

• there are people who love me
• right garlic right
• you do right
• grades aren't everything
• if i get a mediocre grade i will still live
• i will just have to settle for ohlone
• no stop
• stop living in the past
• stop daydreaming
• stop living vicariously
• make the most of life
• make time for yoga, it'll help with efficiency
• remember that God has a plan for me
• maybe it doesn't involve going to premed at Brown
• just remember that He is always there
• thanks God
• i don't know i've been praying for a sign that you simply exist and maybe (i apologize for the qualifier but i am still unsure) maybe you already gave me the sign
• normally i don't walk that way but I met the Cheese and went to Youth Alive and just
• lately i've been doubting everything again
• but I feel like after going I am back on the right track
• anyway just thanks, God
• expressing my thanks through the interwebz
• in case my thoughts aren't always on the right track
• ok i'm sorry
• I don't know why i feel so lonely when I'm so fortunate
• I guess opportunities also come with standards, ya know?

It's almost friday.

TGIF.

-grass

#sadness

#moue
#rue
#junior year is NOT overrated
#it really is hell


-grass

hi

annoyed

i did not think i would be annoyed
but i am
i am very annoyed
yes
very annoyed
i just want to glare at her annoyed because i'm too tired to do anything else
but yes her attitude is infuriating

Call me a hypocrite, but I am in love.

Oh yes, I have all the symptoms.

• pupil dilation
• heart racing
• uncontrollable laughter
• non stop smiling
• incessant thoughts
• willingness to give up everything 

Call me crazy, call me foolish, but young love is still love.

Oh Big Bang Theory, how i love thee.

-grass

facebook

 i do not like facebook. i was looking through my friends list today and realized i do not even say hello to 5/6 of the people on there. i started deleted people...and it felt good. it felt so good. i didn't feel like i was cutting off a relationship. i felt like it was a new start.yeah. that i can get to know a person for who he or she actually is. to know a person for who he or she actually is. not through facebook statuses and instagram photos. -garlic

addressing the problem

sorry i've been away, reader of one.
i've been living in the world of kdramas. you see, it's a pretty heartless world. it takes away your time and reality, but after you're done, you don't feel that great. you just feel like your wasted time. the only exception is city hunter.

so i know i have a problem. and i'm going to try to address it and fix it.

problem:
i watch too much kdrama

reasons i watch:
i like it

why do i like it:
it's nice to watch people falling in love

why is it nice to watch people falling in love:
-my parents are not very loving to each other
-i don't see a lot of love in my life

why don't you see a lot of love in your life:
-maybe i watch to ignore the pain of absence of love in some parts of my life

what parts are these:
-friends
-childhood

why friends:
i wish i could become friends with some people but i think it's hopeless i'm just not good at making friends

why childhood:
when i was really young i had a crush on someone and then my best friend ended up liking him and they went out
i think i was probably really heartbroken at the time
i don't really remember anymore...perhaps why i watch a lot of drama

outcome:
it's pretty sad if this is the truth

what will i do about it:
i cannot tell myself to stop watching, it does not work

what else then:
i think i need to ask God for help
i think i need to forgive people from my childhood
i think i need a reality check

good job self
i think you solved the problem

improvement starts in the morning
1/1/2013
because you are worth more than actors and actresses on the screen who look so dumb forrealz and at one point you don't even know why you're watching
unless it's city hunter
-garlic