Will I be something?
Am I something?
And the answer comes:
You already are.
You always were.
And you still have time to be.
its minty fresh now
i hate when people ask “who you tryna look good for?!” bitch myself bye
crap? no, no. i feel like crepe. flattened, unable to rise. filled with chocolate and icing sugar
i wish i was a sim so i could get fit after one cardio work out
lets play “how rude can i be until u realize i dont like u”