Hello, I'm nothing special. Not important, or different. I'm selfish, insecure, impatient, and fickle. I hate people in general. I'm stubborn, nieve, and quite insecure. Unlike most people now a days, I use my manners. But I might burp like a male, and I'm proud of it. I don't give a fuck what people think of me anymore. I'm just another girl, you'll get bored of and leave. You'll find someone better, and i'll only be the friend you want around, when you need something. I'm not beautiful, or sexy. I'm not special, or one of a kind. I'm just a 17 year old disoriented, over-whelemed, vulnerable, fuck up. My eyes are better than yours, I promise you. Cheerleading, Writing, and Singing are my absolute passions. I'm a blonde at heart, so be prepared for me to confuse you. I'm Brenna. I'm useless, don't even bother.
(via this--too--shall--pass)
Today Tristin wore his dress. Not a huge thing as he wears it quite often but this was different. Today was the first time he kept it on when we left. Usually when he wears it he will change, completely his choice, if I say we are going somewhere. He just wasn’t quite comfortable going out in public with it. Today he just put on his sandals. I asked him a couple times if he was sure and he was. So with a boy in a pink dress and Tinkerbell flip flops, we went.
We hit up Goodwill (finally found some teacups I liked!), Lowe’s and Target. I kept a look out for how people reacted to him, just so if he noticed I could talk with him about it later. There were some curious looks but nothing major. Most people were looking at my hair anyway. The only negative reaction I saw was actually a surprising one. A young girl maybe nine years old gave him a dirty look as we were walking out of Target. Tristin didn’t notice since he was talking about his new Hello Kitty flip brush/mirror.
I know there will be a day when he will notice how some people treat those who are “different” but I’m glad that for now he took a big step for himself and the world as he knows it is alright.
(via averagefuckup)
You know what’s kind of beautiful?
In French, you don’t really say “I miss you.” You say “tu me manques,” which is closer to “you are missing from me.”
I love that. “You are missing from me.” You are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you.
in American we say “do fries come with that shake” when someone with a cute patootie walks by
hahahaha omg this is so sad
