Show me the money!

Money, music, fashion, Gossip Girl, vogues, fire, mascara, pearls, nivea, piano, sharpies, the feeling basket, tresseme hair mousse, and comfy clothes.

I don't need you, or you or you and you. I have all that, so take yourself away from me. I'm good with my materialistic things. They don't disappoint, they're always there for you, and they look nicer to my eyes more than you ever will be. There's different snakes, there are those who admit to being snakes, and there are those who "hate" snakes when yet they are the biggest snakes. But for all you snakes, my venom is most powerful and will kill. And if you feel offended by this, than you are guilty.

Fuck you.
Fuck you.
Oh, and fuck you.

Money doesn't bring you happiness? Money brings ultimate happiness. Can a "friend" buy you a Marc Jacobs hobo bag? Can a "friend" buy you Miu Miu flats? Can a "friend" buy you Glam Princess by Vera Wang? Can a "friend" buy you Diorshow? Can a "friend" buy you a Chloe cheetah jacket? Can a "friend" buy you Jimmy Choo boots? Can a "friend" buy you a sexy pair of Manolo heels?

No, friends don't bring you happiness.
They bring you disappointments, they break your trust, they use up your money, they get you into their pathetic fucking drama, they make the things you love into something stupid, they only think about their feelings, they give you comments which don't mean anything, their outfits look horrible, they constantly mooch off you, they use your strength to hide their weakness and in the end you're the one that's hated, and most of all they are pointless. Go tell your pathetic fucking feelings to someone else, someone who cares? I don't know maybe your bestfriends? Oh wait they aren't your bestfriends.

I am a good friend. I will always be a good friend. But when you fuck up, you fuck up. I'm not your fucking tissue.

It was nice knowing you, although I did see it from the beginning.

I hate you, all of you.
xoxo
jenn

ps.