Status: Well I’m so garish, a little unfairish…
Music: Childish 
- Damien Rice

Someone so dear to me has just so casually called me “childish” and “immature.” It’s not a big thing really. But I don’t know why I’m bothered until now. Maybe because I think it’s true.

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I just got a new haircut. I don’t like it. Uh. I think I want to kill a hairstylist right now. I’m contemplating which weapon to use. Scissors? Blade? Razor? Hairspray?

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My sister borrowed some PhP100,000 from me. She said she couldn’t touch her savings and she wanted to start a business. I told her I would only lend her money if she agreed to give me 50% of the profits. She did. So yeah, I think I’m starting a new business. Wish me luck.

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To you son of a bitch, STOP PESTERING ME! I did not screw your boyfriend. I maybe bitchy but I’m not a bitch. He’s cute a’right. But he’s insufferably dumb. All the poor guy knows about is “fashion.” I doubt if he can even spell it. He just gives me migraine attacks the way chocolates do. At least, chocolates have nuts. So. Fuck. Off. 

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