Haley. 17. Atlanta. I have no idea what I'm doing. Clothes, drawing, beverages, and books make me happy. Art has my heart. I've been with my love for two years now. There is happiness in the quiet. World's guiltiest conscious. Penchant for tropical bullshit. I just want to be a gangster golden girl.
I’m desperate like a praying atheist, I need love I need affection and I hate myself for this.
Get over yourself I say under my breath, when I get annoyed with the thoughts in my head. I don’t deserve to say I’m sad, I don’t know what sadness is. I’m nothing more than complaints from a dumb spoilt kid.
I crave love, I crave attention, and I hate myself for this. I’m embarrassed by my depression, when I put things in perspective
