if was talentless I’d probably be so salty about it and everyone looking down on me for it and stuff that I’d probably end up refusing to go to school and just practicing my levitation telekinesis and the whole breathing under water and seeing in the dark thing so I could be like “yeah well maybe I can’t go invisible or whatever but I can throw several people across the room with my brain and hold my breath under water longer than you so how about that Stephanie” no but like really though all the talentless people should practice their skills so they can just show up at foxfire one day and absolutely own everyone there in a splotching match.
I just read that Katie Couric is following Paige Lorenz and Courtney VKobvich on IG?!?!When is this shit gonna stop! GOD!!!!
Hello, Anon:
Where’ve you been? That was weeks ago 🙃😆
Many people use social media to find information about certain topics or people. Kindly please consider the fact that follows on IG do not automatically indicate approval or admiration. Sometimes people are just nosy.
This sh*t will stop when it’s no longer financially beneficial to the outlets that publish lies about celebrities and to the trashy opportunists who tell them, which can only happen if people would just stop paying attention to these talentless, greedy, mendacious, fame-hungry glory hounds.
Attention is what they want. Why are we giving it so freely to them?
I realize in answering your ask that they’re getting some attention but I couldn’t resist an opportunity to call these a**holes talentless, greedy, mendacious, fame-hungry glory hounds.
I wake up after sleeping a full 10 hours feeling tired.
No amount of coffee or cold water can take the weights off.
Some days I dress myself and find myself outside in my grandma’s backyard.
Other days I look in the mirror and realize my face is shiny with grease.
I think, “You’ve always been so ugly,” and walk away before I can say anymore.
Some days I’m patient with my daughter.
I give her every ounce of respect I hold within my vessel.
Other days I bark at her and make her feel forgotten.
Always, the pain in my chest remains.
I remember it’s there after shouting matches with my husband.
I’m crying on the bedroom floor with a fluffy comforter and a flat pillow.
It grows, the pain, and I remember how long its been there.
What started as an idea grew and grew inside my heart.
I wanted to be crazy.
I wanted something to fuel my art.
Young and naive, I thought it just meant being able to express the parts of people they couldn’t explain.
Now I realize, it’s that we’re bleeding.
We’re pouring ourselves out because there’s too much inside to hold.
It feels painful, like a puss pocket about the burst.
It’s taking the blade to release the infection.
It’s hoping it goes away.
Sometimes I wished I was gifted at something, that I was special or a have fucking talent.
Why was I so unlucky why others get to have a passion in something while i'm here just being a shell. All talk, but no action. I just don't get it, why me