note: I tried to upload this like twenty minutes ago so gO ME?
I guess the original post got delete so fuck me.
Can’t do anything about this.
Lemme start you off with some bs about me: I’m a hermit, which is a simple way of saying that I don’t leave my house that often, I’ve got a lot of very bad anxiety and depression and a lot of other things that I’m not really sure of, I’m gender queer, and if you wanna argue, please don’t because I’m just trying please I’m just trying to stay alive(|-/), which sometimes isn’t all that easy, but try me. I’m growing up in a world where your fate is chosen by your looks or who you love or what you identify as, so just take it easy.
If you don’t know what gender queer means, welp, you’re on Google. Hopefully. I pray for you if you’re on Yahoo or some other shit.
Back to the subject. I’m really just a kid who sucks at handling their own problems, so I’m sorry in advance if I offend you somehow. Honestly, I didn’t mean to.
God, this is going so much better than that first post.
To put it simple, I’m just a sleepless child who has bad trust issues and mental disorders.
Also, my mom is very nice. If she knew I had this, she’d probably say hi.
But, she isn’t here. She’s down the hall sleeping. It’s almost two am. Happy spring break, me.
I play three instruments: ukulele, guitar, and piano. I’m in gifted and talented for creative thinking and leadership skills. That’s probably the result of my high tolerance of the fact that fictional worlds rule my life and my low tolerance of bullshit.
I scream a lot, because it’s kind of an easy thing to do, and I sing a lot, because I’ve been told that I’m good at it, even if I don’t think I am. It makes people happy, and that’s all that I feel that I’m good for.
All I want in life is to make everyone happy, even if I’m miserable. I really don’t care about myself.
Also, I like Netflix.
Goodnight or morning, depending on where you are, imaginary person.
-Leo Cosette, March 31st, 2016 (1:44 am)