I don't hate myself, but I don't think I'll ever love myself either. Everyday is like routine now, but I guess that'll change as soon as people start doing something.
But I smile sometimes, quite often, but not enough. I have wonderful friends that makes me happy and a lovely family. I dream too much. And I think I'm fat and disgusting. But I guess that has something to do with the guys yelling "That's a huge b*tch!" after me eberytime I walk past them.
I think I can smile more if only I could turn around and kick them so hard they'll be forced to pluck their privates out of their ears.
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