Being lonely is like a sickness. It spreads, it contaminates. I can feel it crawling under my skin and dragging itself across my body. I feel so small. There is no substitute for you.
It would be so much easier if you were here to fill the space you used to inhabit.
THIS IS MY WRITING. MINE. TAKE IT DOWN, STOP STEALING MY WRITING, AND WRITE YOUR OWN GODDAMN WORDS, YOU CRAZY ASS BITCH.
For reference, I caught this crazy fucking girl stealing my writing, like, 2 or 3 years ago, off a totally different blog. By chance I just remembered about her today and decided to visit her blog to make sure she wasn’t still stealing my writing, BUT OH LOOK. SHE IS.
Jesus, get a fucking life. Your own life. In your own words. And stop stealing mine. Oh, and stop fucking stalking me too while you’re at it.