Tag: about me

OK Y’ALL LISTEN UP I LIVE IN THE PERFECT BUILDING FOR A HORROR MOVIE

YEAH THAT’S RIGHT IT LOOKS LIKE A PRISON ON THE OUTSIDE. AND IT HAS 13 FLOORS HOLY SHIT

AND IT HAS THESE CREEPY-ASS ABANDONED SHOWER STALL-THINGS ON EVERY. SINGLE. FLOOR.

I MEAN SERIOUSLY

WHAT THE FUCK

WE NEED A FILM CREW HERE STAT

AND IN THIS FUCKING HALLWAY

THERE IS THIS ROOM (sorry for friend in the mirrored glass) CALLED THE “PRACTICE ROOM”

AND ALL THAT’S INSIDE IS A FUCKING CHAIR FACING THE WINDOW

(here it is with the brightness turned up) BUT HOLY SHIT. I LIVE IN THE BEST HORROR MOVIE BUILDING EVER

IF YOU WANT TO FILM A HORROR MOVIE: COME HERE TO THIS DORM I SHIT YOU NOT IT WILL BE PERFECT

GOD I AM SO UPSET RIGHT NOW. LIKE UGH. I just cried on my roommate (and I DON’T cry. Like the last time I cried was over a year ago) about how shitty my life is and I just. Don’t want to be in school anymore, and I hate my dad because he hates literally everything I do, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. I’m so tired and I’m probably going to change my major because I can’t. do. it. anymore. All I want to do is sleep. I told my roommate that I wouldn’t be upset or anything if I was shot/killed tomorrow, and I’ve felt that way for years. Ever since I attempted suicide (more than once) 8 years ago I’ve just been OK with the idea of dying. I don’t want to keep going on. And I’m crying again, FUCK. I’m done. I’m so fucking done. I’m not going to go out of my way to die, but I would not be opposed in the slightest if someone killed me right now. I can barely function, like I’m not doing my homework because I CANNOT physically force myself to do it. I give up. I just wanna sleep and never wake up. I can’t even articulate HOW MUCH I am done with this shitty existence. And all those “pick-me-up” posts I see all the time don’t help. I’ve always seen those as excuses and little helpers that don’t mean a goddamn thing in the end. GOD. So done. 

bd3457:

I was tagged by: bd3457

RULES: JUST INSERT YOUR ANSWERS TO THE QUESTIONS BELOW. TAG AT LEAST 10 FOLLOWERS.

NAME: Megan E. T.

NICKNAME: My last name ^-^

BIRTHDAY: Aug 9

GENDER: Female

SEXUALITY: Heteroflexible

HEIGHT: 5’7

TIME ZONE: Mountain time

WHAT TIME AND DATE IS IT THERE: 8/26 – 10:14PM

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 8-9

OTP(S): Wincest, Drarry, Thorki, (I could go on for pages…)

THE LAST THING I GOOGLED WAS: xbox static IP Address

FIRST WORD THAT COMES TO MIND: Tired

WHAT I LAST SAID TO A FAMILY MEMBER: “Bye mom”

ONE PLACE THAT MAKES ME HAPPY AND WHY: Outside when it’s foggy

Because I LOVE fog and when it’s just cold enough to see your breath. Hoodies and oversized jammie pants are my favorite thing seriously

HOW MANY BLANKETS I SLEEP UNDER: Comforter and a sheet

FAVORITE BEVERAGE: Cherry Dr. Pepper

THE LAST MOVIE I WATCHED IN THE CINEMA WAS: Oculus 

THREE THINGS I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT: The internet, food/water, clothing

SOMETHING I PLAN ON LEARNING: How to photoshop

A PIECE OF ADVICE FOR ALL MY FOLLOWERS: 

Screw anyone and everyone that restricts you/who you are. Don’t put up with that, get out of any situation like that (even if that means turning your back on your biological family) and just be you. 

YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS SONG: You Always Hurt the one you Love by The Mills Brothers

So now I tag: Umm, no thanks! This was fun though. 

So today my dad ranted at me for a good half hour on how my standards for a boyfriend are too high. The day before I told him that my only standards are for him to be for equal rights and that I would like for him to be tall. Not that he needed to be tall, but I like tall guys so it would just be a bonus. Dad said I would become an old cat lady with that kind of thinking. He told me “that’s just how it is” and asked me how household duties would be carried out and who would do the cleaning and who would do the fixing. Apparently, men are better at fixing and women are better at cleaning because “you don’t see a lot of female mechanics, do you? Men are just better suited at doing the greasy work. Always have been.” He then proceeded to ask me if I was exploiting and subjugating myself if I made myself a sandwich. What??? What does that even mean!?