Concussed tori is concussed.

Tl;dr. Basket ball to the back of the head equals concussion. Concussion equals tired and unable to use computer. Unable to use computer means unable to really wrote blog posts. Unable to really write blog posts means updating from the iPod. Updating from the iPod means autocorrect. Autocorrect means incorrect. 

And I'm too god damned concussed to fix my mistakes. 

Made a blog post on Tori blog outlining future posts. 

tl;dr Midnight update of my life

in bulleted list. cause i can

• stress sucks ass
• AP US History sucks ass
• above class is hard as balls
• my mind doesnt do history
• at all
• hormones suck
• like seriously you drop a quarter and ill cry
• or look at me meanly ill cry
• so imma get me some birth control for that shit
• confusing relationship is confusing
• sex is awesome
• condoms are also awesome
• i graduate in like 3 months
• holy shit
• work
• oh we got robbed at work
• i think they were crips...
• almost choked a kid out in gym class
• obnoxous little freshman
• also he stared at my tits too much
• tired me doesn't care about spelling
• i was sick

yep. HEY ME TOMORROW HAVE FUN TRYING TO MAKE SNESE OF THIS SHIT!
apologies to people following this blog who have to make sense of this shit
OH ALSO I STARTED ANOTHER SLENDER BLOG HERE AND I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON SOME POSTS FOR THAT ONE AND TORI ONE SO YEAH
NGIHT

HALP ME WITH SCHOLARSHIP WILLING PLZ

CLICK ME! Go read it if you want, but please click on the green box to vote!

You know what? You can read it here!

I’ve always had body-image issues – who hasn’t? I struggled through middle and high school thinking that I simply was not “enough” and that I was abnormal. I wasn’t pretty enough, or skinny enough, or socially adept enough. I was too bookish, too reserved, too interested in writing when everyone else was interested in being outside, too interested in staying still and taking in the scenery while it flew by for everyone else. But, I was smart enough for others to cheat off of; I was interesting enough for others to seek my council when they didn’t know what to do. 

Now, I see through the lens of wisdom created by mental and psychological abuse that can only come from a parent – the kind you never recognize until everything inside of you breaks from heartache. I look back through this lens as someone fighting depression and self-image issues, and I look back with the wisdom that someone my age should not have learned yet. I look back and I see an unnecessary trial by fire, a test of tears and blood and hatred of the self. Now looking forward with this wisdom, I see the message I wish I’d been taught.

Love yourself. You are the only you that has, does, and will exist upon this earth. Love your strengths. Love your flaws. Love how you look when you get out of bed in the morning. Love the ridiculous thoughts that flit through your mind at three A.M. Love your mind. Love how your hands express thoughts. Love yourself even when you think no one else does. Love yourself forever and always, ad infinitum. 

That’s what I’d teach everyone in the world. Love yourself.