I wish my friends would have enough brains to realize by now that I tell my shit like it is. Jesus Christ. How fucking different is it to call one friend a bitch and another friend a fat bitch. So what if I was fucking detailed?
You know what? Fuck you and your hypocrisy.
On another note, I’m exploding weeks of frustration/anger/shit on you. Be flattered.
Three weeks later, I get another bruise. Yaaay. It’s more like a painful lump the size of a man’s thumb from knuckle to tip, and it’s right at my inner thigh and it hurts so much. 
I got it from stumbling over my computer chair a few days ago. Haha. I have a habit of sitting cross-legged on the chair, and because of that, my leg fell asleep.
So when Mother told me to get something for her, my legs failed me when I tried to stand up. My arms flailed to try to get some balance, my right leg crumpled, and my left leg tried to hook onto one of my chair’s armrests. Like I was on the monkey bars. 
My left inner thigh caught on the sharp corner of the armrest and I fell to the floor anyway.
It hurts!! I have to make a conscious effort to not brush my legs together. And now I look so stupid when I walk. 
Don’t you just hate it when you bang into something and end up hurting yourself over it? Don’t you hate it even more when the thing you collided with came out without a scratch or any damage at all?
Urg. I’m either absent-minded or too preoccupied to pay attention to where my limbs are flailing, apparently. I was painting my mother’s bowling shirt to make it prettier and more colorful with vines and flowers. So absorbed in my task was I that I banged both my knees on the table leg twice. Twice. I would think that I was mindful enough to avoid it but apparently once I am painting, I think of nothing else.
Bah.
It’s not only the table that is my enemy. I knock into my chair fairly often that I have bruises on my elbows. And there’s the kitchen counters coloring my hips purple and yellow. I’m like a walking accident sometimes that a friend would ask me if I got into a fight from the amount of bruises I can manage to get on a mindless or preoccupied day.
My bed should be my sanctuary free from harm. Unfortunately it seems to hold a grudge seeing as it gave me a really big bruise on my leg when I slipped and stumbled against it. This was two weeks ago, and the bruise is only just fading away right now.
OH WELL. I’ll live.
However, this reminds me of the song Bruises by Chairlift. 
Simply because of the bruises part, of course.