You’ve got some nerve to creep my profile after you’ve lead me on. 
And ignored me.
And disappeared every weekend.
And stood me up.
And made me cry. And feel like shit.
And lied to me.
And said you didn’t mind I had cancer when you did.
And said you’d be there and listen yet you ran away as fast as you could.

You’re an asshole.
I don’t care if you got sent to the moon, and you lost your phone in space then got hit by an alien bus.
Don’t fucking creep my profile.
Douchebag.  

(via fixed-at-halvo)

Ohhhh my gossshhh.

So I’m sicker than a dog. Every muscle in my body aches from this stupid cold. I don’t understand why the fucking doctors didn’t fucking give me something when I first started getting suck.

Oh hey, you’re gonna be immunocompromised in two days but let’s let this nasty ass cold run wild and kill you, Kay? Kay!

Fucking cunts.

And I’m two seconds from throwing the house phone at the wall. Stop. Fucking. Ringing.

No offense.

But every time I come hang out with my best friend, this super loser guy that has serious problems keeps dropping by, and they end up having long ass talks about how HIS life sucks, and how he can’t get a girlfriend, and blah blah blah, blah blah blah.

Seriously?! You’re like, 45 years old. You drink an do drugs. You hang out with this life sucking bitch that makes you do drugs and drink, then drive home. You think you’re in a serious relationship every time a girl agrees to hang out with you.

And then you drop your ass over here, and 3/4 of the time, you end up fucking crying because your little life sucks, making me feel like I’m in the fucking way.

SHUT THE FUCK UP. kick those druggie friends out of your life, get your shit together, and grow some confidence. Jesus. And Kim isn’t your fucking personal therapist. Just saying, you should go see a professional.

And stop making me feel like I’m just a child, and that I’m in the fucking way. I haaaaaaate that. Ugh!

They set a date. I’m freaking out.

I found out yesterday. The BMT nurse from the cross came and thought I knew they picked a date. I’m a bit sick of getting important news dropped on me like that. Fuck.

But yeah. I’m still freaking out. I won’t be home til the end of June then I have to go to Calgary around the 10th, for three months. Kind of fucking pissed.

I don’t know. I know I should be happy they have a donor and that it will be done somewhat soon. But I can’t help but just be pissed. I don’t want this stupid transplant. And I don’t want to be away for tree months. I’m gonna miss my puppy, and my kitties, and I won’t have any visitors up there, other than my parents. And I’m gonna miss Kim and Abbey and Hanah.

I might be just a big baby right now, but I just don’t want to go.

You’re nice and all… but I can’t. 

I feel like I’m faking it every time I text you. like I’m forcing myself to laugh at your jokes, or be interested in what you have to say. And that’s not right. No one deserves to be treated like that. 

Sorry. Just not feeling it. 

Seriously, phone?

Why must you ALWAYS type in “hoes” instead of “how”?!

I still feel like Ireland is where I’m meant to be.

Hm. I thought the feeling would go away, but thinking about starting university and my future, I just get a massive feeling that Ireland is where I have to go.

It’s still not for a long while. But thinking about it makes me so excited.

Dr. David, please come explain to me what the fuck is happening with me? 

Cause some dumb ass nurse came in my room at 230am and blabbered about how my cultures showed bacteria in my blood and that I need to be on antibiotics every 8 hours? Would be nice to know what the fack is going on before they shove meds in my veins? Yeaaaah. 

And I don’t care if you’re in menopause, there is no excuse for dripping sweat on a patients bed and arm. That’s disgusting. Ever thought it might be because you’re about the size of a baby whale that you sweat so much? You can’t even fit in scrubs, and you have a towel around your neck all the time. AND YOU BARELY DO ANYTHING. EVER. EVERRRRR. That’s disgusting. 

You know what sucks?

Craving kraft dinner really, really bad but all the stores are closed and tv keeps playing KD commercials.

Screw you, tv. And screw you, weird almost-midnight cravings.