oh shit, well, here we go. the last time i tried this i got suspended.
oh shit, here we are again. fuck you audrey. (in the least sexual way possible.)
your name tastes like the mucus-esque portillo’s cheese sauce. your name has a gritty, harsh texture to it. you can’t live up to your name. it’s okay, you’re still miles better than all the people named after a male duck. and all the associations with audrey hepburn. oh my fucking holy plastic cow intestines shut up. i am not an iconic british actress. i was not named after an iconic british actress. i will never be an iconic british actress.
i may be a greedy person. in the future i want a ysl bag. one day i will buy vivienne westwood jewelry to my heart’s content. actually no you don’t really have a heart. it’s not as if over a span of ten years you’ll go on some mystical journey to find a rare substance called “empathy.” empathy is foreign to me. “empathy” is like yeti. is yeti even real? personally, if i was (a?) yeti, i would charge for photos. cha-ching. later on i would be a very blingy yeti. okay, back to the point. i am materialistic (which has been strangely glorified recently). actually my family is very well-off. they should give me more money. i dearly hope that you have more money in the future. money buys happiness, don’t listen to them.
you’re out of college. unless you didn’t make it in.
you were born into this cruel world on may seventh. what a fucking ugly birthday. you grew up reading books about ducks. you really liked ducks. your mother, very far from being an artist, would draw little ducks for you. they were cute. ducks are a terrible reminder of your childhood. or late toddlerhood. make way for ducklings.
in sixth grade you were a top student. how do you gain and lose a reputation simultaneously? ask my sixth grade self. in sixth grade you learned to lie. in seventh you learned how to hide everything. now you’ve been gifted with the ability to laugh for a period of time and to just stop, twisting your face into an emotionless one.
the other day you laughed at an old man by accident. oh shit.
you’re an atheist but i just know for a fact that if you’re dead, you’d find yourself in hell. you’re just so special. to be honest, hell would not be bad. i’ll smirk at the gates of hell. 情人 by kun will be playing at the entrance, for me. hell is classy. all hail me i am above society as a whole. please bow down to me at the gates because i’ve experienced hell itself. i would have so much fun in hell.
i am a product of everything i’ve seen online. mainstream american television. stupid influencers and trends. my parents. i generally disassociate.
non-aesthetic yet fitting.