the miserable life of a miserable teenager

So, I starve myself. If I had the perfect body, you wouldn’t care, right?

Wouldn’t care about my ugly face, bad mood, hyper personality, about me.

Sure, it hurts some days, but usually it’s natural. Just not hungry.

All the wishes that I could eat less, granted.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“It’ll never be enough.”

Oh. I get it now. Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

That’s the thing about irony though,

Always hits you when you’re,

not in the mood.