The expression on my face is proof that I could see into the future as a baby and am reacting to what 2020 would look like. 😂😬 #ItCouldBeTrue #authorsofinstagram #author as #oracle https://www.instagram.com/p/CF2MMAkHw_o/?igshid=y3jbqsmdk3sy

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The expression on my face is proof that I could see into the future as a baby and am reacting to what 2020 would look like. 😂😬 #ItCouldBeTrue #authorsofinstagram #author as #oracle https://www.instagram.com/p/CF2MMAkHw_o/?igshid=y3jbqsmdk3sy
I feel personally attacked by my IPhone right now bringing this up as a suggestion.Damn them#itcouldbetrue#ornot#butitis#pens (at Lakewood, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpkSWcBgZeZ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=vmy91ajwbxsz
I like to think I'm tough; to an extent I am, but sometimes even the most hardened soldiers fall. Sometimes, we just pretend. I pretend because I'm prideful and I don't want to admit that I'm weak enough to be affected by such things as being called "common whore", "psycho bitch" and "cunt". I do see it as a weakness - letting those words affect me. The boy who said them is of no importance to me now. It's not even those names he called me that are hurting me most right now. He said some pretty awful things to me (and I to him. I claim no innocence here) including alluding to the fact thst I'm afraid I'll die alone with a hoard of cats. It hurts because he's right. I am at least a little afraid that I will die alone with only my cats to love me. And that stings, just enough to consume my thoughts for the night.