actually that's a lie i went out this morning to buy painkillers and fruit and these two gross pikey men made loud comments about my outfit that i didn't quite catch onto then shouted 'what year is it again?!' so i turned around and they laughed at me and shouted 'yeah, have a nice day' then laughed more.
really i should have shouted something back but i already felt dizzy and sick and that made me a bit cry-y because i'm a pathetic individual and anyway i was wearing one of my favourite outfits so fuck you.
literally people shouldn't be allowed to say anything about my clothes except for you look fucking fabulous. 90% of the time i look at everyone around me and am so happy to be dressed bizarrely/inappropriately (i.e. baggy flowery pants, leopard creepers, lace shirt and huge pink knitted coat to work?) no more comments, cheers mates.
what was the point of this? oh yeah, other people exist hurrah! anyway i have spent most of today lying on my bed dramatically clutching my forehead. literally for hours because i couldn't sleep and it hurt to do anything else.
LOOK THIS OUTFIT IS SICK AND COST ABOUT 2P plus we stole the socks off a mannequin so shut up. sicky face mm. i have 6 weeks left in sydney i want them gone i need asia in my life and then ENGLAND at long fucking last. god i miss england.
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