BLAST, I CAN’T TELL WHICH ONE IS THE MAN!
So I temporarily deactivated my facebook the other day, and deleted my myspace so no one can get a hold of me unless they have my number or get it from someone else. Which is fine by me because I’m sick of people saying they miss me or sending me crap online and not making an effort to actually hang out with me.
I want to delete this thing too but I couldn’t figure it out months ago so I got mad and stopped going on ha. Maybe I’ll start blogging more. I have nothing else to do on the computer now, besides go on my flickr.
Maybe I’ll just post pictures on here. Or post whatever I damn well feel like, right? I mean that’s what it’s for I guess.
Bye.
http://www.tumblr.com/account/delete
I’ll miss you dearly. <3
- Cory
Never had egg nog. I hate when parents fight. I don’t agree with all these entertainment news shows beat on Tiger Woods. I haven’t felt good in three weeks, physically. I actually like wearing dresses. I love making people happy. Shane Dawson helped me get through the roughest part of my life. I don’t actually know if I want to be a journalist, or an editor. I don’t think I’m understood, no matter how close I am to someone. I feel like every guy that I’m close to just wants sex, no friendship. I don’t think I’ll ever get over him, and I don’t think I’ll ever find that someone who will just stand beside me through thick and thin. And right now, and for the last year or two, I believed I’ll never be entirely happy, ever.
I’ve never had egg nog, my parents are divorced, all that matters is he is a good golfer, I feel wonderful, physically, I like dressing up - but generally not in dresses, I, also, love making people happy. I have no damn clue who that is. I learned I do not want to be a journalist. I feel I’m understood well enough. I don’t care about sex. I’m WAY over Maggie, and I think I’ll find someone perfect for me eventually.
I am happy.
I think you just need to look at life a different way. Every negative has a positive.
remember when you finished eating a cock, you were supposed to continue dating the guy until he left.