Lady-Vanessa

I blame it on the week I'm having I blame it on the hormones I blame it on the clients at work I blame it on everyone else I'm such a bitch, I know I am I'm angry and mean and an idiot I'm angry and mean the words coming out of my mouth feel like a disease that I can't control I blame it on the shitty homework I blame it on the traffic I blame it on the headaches I get that never ever stop I know it's my bad attitude sometimes it just breaks free sometimes I'm just not me and I blame that on myself I't no excuse, I get that I don't want it to be you deserve better you don't deserve me I hate myself because of who I am, n

For deviantART's 12th birthday, the staff decided to throw a broken surprise party for Fella. They gathered at Fella's favorite restaurant, The Fancy Crow, with presents in hand. Llama brought Fella to the door and once they stepped in, all of the staff screamed, "Holy!!" Fella was so shocked that he instantly watched. He opened his presents to find that Llama had given him 12 peaches. He was amazed! He would never forget that night.

You need to pay attention to the mistakes you keep doing over and over again. You never know when life will quit on you You say you'll cook them to smithereens But you're entirely guilty. You're entirely guilty when you throw yourself away the way you do When it seems like that part of your life is a drug and you abandon yourself to it Just to taste it one more time. But you've destroyed yourself by design.

I'm starting to think that some people can't think on their own anymore as if they have to have something pushing them telling them how to talk or to act or to enjoy life They use other people's words because they've lost all sense of originality because they've forgotten how to say 'hello' and mean it instead of quoting it from a movie or a book or from somewhere over the god-damned rainbow (see what I did there?) We all do it sometimes and I just want to tell them to shut up because I can't I can't I can't ... I can't bear to see them lose themselves like this And I wish I weren't the same I'm fed-up of this pre-made b

I don't like funeral homes. I'm guessing no one else likes them much either. It's hard when you're there for someone you barely know and everyone around you is greeting each other and you talk and smile on occasion, when it's polite, when it's needed. You shake hands and kiss cheeks amongst the heavy feeling of death and mourning and plain sorrow. You can't feel good in a funeral home because the atmosphere weighs on you like a thousand bricks. The emotions and the memories are so heavy you can barely breathe and at some point you can't hear or see or feel because you're buried under everybody's bricks so you just sit there for a while, loo