I'm not a Tumblr famous. I love it when a red number appears above my inbox icon. If someone followed me, I smile and it makes me happy. When I lose a follower, I ask myself why. When someone hates me, only few people comfort me. When I make a text post, I seldom have notes for it. Almost all of my posts are reblogged from other users. When I hold an honesty hour, you can count with your fingers the people who ask. But despite the fact that I have not much follower count, I am proud of my blog. Why? Because the person who is reading this right now chose to follow me. :) I love you followers.
Like yeah. Today was shitty. I spoke with my banker aka my mom, she said i was broke. That i got only a few Gs on my bank account.
She said i was spending beyond my means. Which i know is true. Ive got to pay a shit ass expensive washing machine. That i bought because i broke the old one.
Then my mom asked me to buy a hair color… then i called her asking the color choice she wants. She said she wanted light brown. The fuck does she say she wants darker ones. And she goes out on me ratting out on me saying i was so stupid getting taht color. Shit it pisses me off. Fuck it.
Here i was making an effort. And she goes lala on me.
Forehead: Friendship Closed Eyelids: Thankfulness Tip of nose: Good luck Cheek: Happy to see you Lips: Love Earlobe/Neck: “I want you”, Lust, Desire Top of hand: Respect, loyalty Computer screen: I love you but I can’t ever have you (because you’re not real)