August 2010
17130.) i hate when people ask me how i am. that monotonous response, that ‘fine thanks, how’re you?’ so forced, so contrived. when i reply i don’t even think of the meaning behind the words that are tumbling out. i don’t even stop to realise that no, i’m not okay, or maybe yes, i’m fucking amazing. i wish people wanted to know how each other were rather...
