#395 Immature Slut

Curtains have been lowered and you're no longer
Under the spotlight.
You're off stage.
Why?
You've let a few words slipped from that mouth of yours.
Everyone heard it.
Too bad.

You're a major slut, you know?
Just because you could take a few good shots
And you start calling yourself
A wonderful pro camera person.
If you're so pro,
Why the hell did you ask me to take pictures
Since I'm a cacat camera person.
I can't please the whole world
And I certainly don't want to waste my time pleasing you, slut.

Immature,
Childish,
Child-like brain.
I'm kind of sensitive towards those words.
Because I've been called those for quite a while
And it sickens me.
So what if I'm immature?
Call the cops and send me in to jail then.
It's illegal to be immature, after all.
Hey, being immature is far better than being a
Slut.

Seriously?
Gossiping about me to my sister?
What the hell?
Who's being immature now?

You're wasting my time and energy.
Stupid duck-lips girl.

And yeah,
I'm fat.
So what?
Stop telling me that.
I bloody know, okay?
Look at yourself first before looking at me.
Maybe your boobs are so huge,
It's covering those fats that lies underneath.
Or you might think your fats are your boobs.

You can be nice.
But you can me mean.
Like I am right now.
And don't go gossiping about my sister to me.
It's sickening.


Cheerio. Slut.