Okay, I know that I'm a shallow bastard with no emotions of sappiness of love in me, and I can respect the fact you hate me because of that. But today, when Olivia dahlin' sent me wallart, my heart burst and I frickin' made and sent one to everybody that posted on my wall previously. ... Well, most of them, anyway. ._. Don't judge. And as soon as I did, this bubbly feeling spread inside me like a wild fire when they sent back wallart. It's like being a five year old ALL. OVER. AGAIN. :Ꭰ First. Fucking. Rollercoaster. Ride. My life took a 360° turn for the wor— better. :3 That, and experiencing the joys of love. ._. Oh, how I missed you so so so so much, said emotion. You bring back so many nostalgic memories... It's like going to an aquarium and harassing the fish through the other side of the glass. Teehee. What? Don't tell me you've never done that before. The tempting thought of slapping your hand against the transparent wall, scaring the crap out of the fish. ._. ... Okay, I'm probably a sadist. Don't judge. ._. my life is just that boring. ._. Back to the topic at hand<3 I know it's outrageous and most of you think I'm doing this for attention. I am, but not the attention you close minded apes are thinking of. Ahhhhh. The feeling of being thrown tomatoes at. ._. * skips through the beautiful meadow full of daises * Sharing the love isn't easy. Of course, since I'm not a peace keeper, *far fucking from that, I add insult the injury and add fuel to the fire. That's how horrible I am. ;o;* it's not easy to do so. First, you stand patiently on the streets as a naïve and innocent 7 year old asking for donations to a corrupt organization whose motto is 'KEEPING THE PEACE AND SPREADING THE LOVE', and next thing you know, instead of a beefy 100MOP bill inside the donation box covered with rainbow unicorn stickers is a piece of meat. A piece. Of. Meat. Don't get me wrong, it's hilarious to be thought of as a homeless person. Besides, English's not my first language and I had spelled the 'D' in donation backwards. Lmao. But the meat? It was a chicken leg. A yellow chicken leg. Today, I was starving. I woke up at 10AM and had to go to China to do some 'praising and offering' to our 'almighty' ancestors. It's not a religious thing, trust me, it's a religion I'm being forced to participate in every God damn year of my pitiful life. You know what? Four hours later after driving and shifting in and out from consciousness, I'm greeted with a chicken leg. A God forsaken, yellow skinned, chicken leg. I don't even know if it's cooked or raw. That's how creepy it is. Being the starved person I was, I took a huge bite out of it and ate half of it. The other half? Ohhhhh. You really wanna know? "YES CHLOE, YESSSSS." It had a frinkin' chunk of blood on the bottom side of the disgusting meaty son of a crap. Yeah. Chunk of blood. The disgusting chunky bloody liquidized gelato piece of crap was then spit on the ground. I don't have manners, I know. But would you really think that I, an unmannered, wild, undisciplined hipster girl, would contribute to society's ways and be POLITE, about it? Sure, my grandma and grandpa and dad and stepmom was nearby chatting about how delightful it would be to own a property in China but guess what? At least I had the decency to walk out, and spit it out. Trust me, you would've done the same. *Ahem* As I was saying, the donation box. I screamed and threw it on the ground and ran over to my mother who was busy texting to her boyfriend. ._. "CHLOE IS A MOMMA'S GIRL!" As a matter of fact, I am. I don't even WANT to go to those children group tours anymore. Gosh, I remember going to Singapore with my BFFL once. And guess how GREAT it turned out? We slammed the door in eachother's faces and had to sleep with the other girls for the night. And when I mean other girls, I meant those who lived two doors from us. We had two join rooms attached to ours, and God, it sure as hell felt good to escape from that ant infested room! And if you were wondering, we had a full out frickin' food battle. We both needed a bath. It was late, and when that sadistic tour guide grabbed us by the arms and hauled us out to 'explore the streets of Singapore', we were too tired to even respond to his nagging. Never again, will I make the same mistake and go to New Zealand this year. Never again. I'll settle on sleeping on the couch for two months. That seems legit... Right? ----- Don't. Judge. Just don't.