When we collide, we come together.

I just want to be better than your head's only medicine.

Samantha.
15; straightedge; single. ▲
I'm indecisive and often anxious. Awkward little fuck. I'm shy; around certain people. I adore using semi-colons, and using words no one else gets. I hate people, I have about six good friends. Everyone else means shit, really. Proper grammar and spelling is a must. Tend to correct people a lot. Hate school. Everyday paranoia. Nothing serious. Fall for guys too easily. Perfectionist; it annoys me sometimes. Don't smoke around me. I hate people who's lives revolve around drinking/drugs/sex. You can see pretty shit better when you're sober..

My insides are copper, I'd kill to make them gold.

Fall Out Boy. My camera. Patrick Stump. Flickr. Pete Wentz's lyrics. Energy drinks. Sleeping. Hardcore gigs. Pits. Biffy. That feeling you get when you finish exams. Walls of death. Michael Cera. My bed. Clandestine. Big hoodies. The fact that it's nearly Christmas. Friends. Taking photos. Writing fanfiction (ssshhh). Cans of Coke. Skinnys. Hats. Shirts. Sleepovers. Buying things online. Having money. Winter. The Sims (I'm seriously fucking awesome at that game. The kinda 'melt your face off' awesome). Fashion; Chanel. Lovely pictures. Presents. Facebook. Buying and wrapping Christmas stuff :3.

I want to be rich and I want lots of money, I don't care about clever, I don't care about funny.

WHEN YOU HIT ME, HIT ME HARD.

Want a Christmas card? :3

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