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Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Emily. Twenty-one. English/Creative Writing major. My life is split between Baltimore and Philadelphia.
  
Likes:
Sylvia Plath, writing, reading, Ben Folds, diners, potatoes, friends, music, windows, cigarettes, couches, movies, innuendo, honesty, Chuck Palahniuk, good conversation, Sutter Home white zinfandel, black men, equality, coexistence and the word serendipity.
I believe I was a combination of Snoop Dogg, Hugh Hefner and Helen Keller in another life.
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Becoming an adult is literally just a state of constant rejection in which you’re told you cannot do any of the things that would give you even the slightest bit of joy and fulfillment.
Sometimes I wish that we could pretend that we never met before
and I could reintroduce myself, pretend it was the first time
because I’m stronger now
and I could love you better than I did back then.
so I used to buy weed from this girl at school
(she overcharged me)
and she always messages me on facebook and wants to hang out
but i really only have the capability to like and be friends with a maximum of five people at a time
and the spots are filled
so i mostly just ignore her
and now i’m stuck in a conversation with her and she’s asking about my relationship with god
and kill me
like, seriously, i bought dime bags off of you in the dorm parking lot
that is as far as our relationship goes
I don’t think I’ll ever try so hard again.
I hope to God, I don’t.
My heart just couldn’t take another round of this.
I’ve outgrown you. I’m so angry. I just want to spew hateful words, tell the world that I’m better than you and that you’re fake and sad and addicted and just inconsiderate. But there’s no point in being bitter. That won’t change anything. It won’t make me forget that I threw my fucking everything into you and it didn’t even dent the surface of these insane walls you’ve built up. And all this negativity doesn’t erase the fact that you taught me so much and the fact that somewhere, even for a moment, we meant something. Some friendships are for a season. Ephemeral doesn’t mean unimportant. It’s just a shame that you’re wasting yourself. You really are. But I absolutely refuse to do the same. I’m unbreakable. Especially now.
sexting is awful.
someone starts it and then you just go with it because it’s nice to hear how someone actually wants to bone you but it’s really just awkward and you can’t stop thinking about dumb you sound
and then you’re just typing bullshit
like oh yeah that sounds good
and then just like
mmm mmm
and eventually you take a nap out of self-defense so that you can text later and be like sorry i fell asleep and not be lying
or is that just me?
seriously, I was the only girl in my high school class that had b00bz

small pokes I’m dying
if I had money, I would literally pay someone to unwrap these hershey kisses for me
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