aw, but she’s the most KAWAII little sociopath

 

The point of [Suzumiya Haruhi’s] character is to represent a girl struggling with being bipolar. On the outside, she acts loud and bombastic, but she’s really just scared of losing what she has, and struggles with finding people that make her feel whole.Β 

THAT πŸ‘πŸ» IS πŸ‘πŸ» NOT πŸ‘πŸ» WHAT πŸ‘πŸ» BIPOLAR πŸ‘πŸ» IS πŸ‘πŸ» YOU πŸ‘πŸ» MENTAL πŸ‘πŸ» MIDGET πŸ‘πŸ»
READ πŸ‘πŸ» YOU πŸ‘πŸ» A πŸ‘πŸ» FUCKING πŸ‘πŸ» BOOK πŸ‘πŸ» ALREADY πŸ‘πŸ»

Also, Haruhi is an obnoxious little sociopath who probably should have been told “no” more often when she was a child. jus sayin

may you live in ugly times.

Creating fanlistings has been such a belittling, nasty, backstabbing, competitive, petty, childish, and overall ugly experience that I honestly wonder if it’s worth the three seconds’ glance anyone gives any of my work.

eh, whatever.

Never going to understand why someone would join any of my fanlistings if they think I’m Satan (correction: I’m actually just his secretary), but hey,Β  if I’ve learned one thing about T(A)FL over the last three years is that they attract a very interesting breed of people.

Go fucking figure, I guess.

meow that.

Cat otaku are all insufferable, honestly.

bittered (fuck you)

“Women shouldn’t tear other women down!”

If a woman writes garbage poems, I’m going to say that she writes garbage poems, because women shouldn’t lie through their fake smiles to other women, either. That being said, Amanda Lovelace is a hack, that is all, goodnight and goodbye, April.

(I am in a vile mood; could you possibly guess?)

I am…so tired. I’ve been crying since 5pm and it’s 1:30am now. Oneechan and Temiko are probably mad at me, and I deserve it. I am…such a crappy friend. I keep being snappish and horrible and selfish and gods…I just wish I’d stop. But I can’t, I do it unconsciously…that doesn’t justify it, though.

Thoughts keep rolling around in my head and just won’t stop. I tried to write, and failed. I tried to design something, also failed. My head aches and my ear aches and it feels like someone’s put a hole in my heart. The emptiness that was always there just…damn well exploded.

I just wished she’d had the fucking guts to tell me. “I don’t want to be with you, I want to be with Abby.” I wish I hadn’t found out like this. I wish…I just wish someone would love me. Love me the way “CelebrΓ­an” loved me, someone I could share all my secrets and my laughter with. I’ve been wishing that for so long.

I’m being all fucking emo, but I have no hope left. None. This has been the worst year of my life. I’m so tired.

I think I just might go to bed…meditate, pray my sorry heart out to Aset. If She can even hear me. My faith has taken the mother of all beatings. If there are any gods, any at all, why can’t They hear me? Why do They let things like this happen?

Love. Love. For love alone. Once I tasted the drug I couldn’t get enough.

Keep going. Keep fighting. Why? So I can get hurt again? But maybe I deserve it. Maybe this is karma paying me back for all the horrible things I’ve done, all the manipulative and sneaky and cowardly things I’ve ever done…

I hate myself. Hate myself…hate everything. But hate myself and the month of May, 2002, most of all. I wish I’d never met her. I wish to all the Netjer and the Valar and any other gods listening that I’d never fallen in love with her. I wish this pain would go away. It just gets sharper and sharper as the minutes pass.

Aset, Varda, please help me. Blondie, just hug me. I’m sorry I’m such a horrible little sister…and you, E…

…I’m so sorry for everything. It really was for nothing, in the end.