I find little hidden meanings in everything, I mean everything. I usually despise that I do that with every fibre of my being, thinking, it brings nothing but sorrow into my mind.
The scars on my shoulders are healing, when I put concealer on them, they’re barely noticeable, I even mustered up the confidence to go on Omegle, in a fucking tank top!
So my friends, my little meaning for this wonderful happening.
My scars are healing, and so am I!
Blame the effing SuicideProject.org for my wretched re-birth. ;D