Diary of a Glitter Splashed Britney Lovin' Lesbo

I am a 25 year old butcheyfemme queer with rubbish on my mind and sparkles everywhere else

Name:Miss Fee


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Currently Reading:

The Outsider - A Camus

Choke - C Palahnuik


Tuesday, December 3

Holy Shit! Two revelations have been brought to my attention since yesterday. These are two things that I really really did not know previously. The first, wait for it... is that Britney is not a lesbian! I can't believe it. This whole time, since the day I saw her in her long socks and pigtails, I have always just assumed that someone as hot as she could only be a homo! I even thought there would be a day when my Britney would come looking for me, in all her gayness, and invite me back to hers to listen to her records and maybe have a kiss. And in my mind these things really did happen. But now, it transpires that she is in no way inclined toward the beaver. Someone 'normal' called something like Lanelle (like 'flannel' in a French accent I imagine) thought it necessary to point this out to delusional Fee. What the fuck am I to do now? How can I possibly go on knowing that Miss Spears doesn't want to sniff rug? My life is empty now. I'm sitting here with a blunt knife and a head full of anger and I must end it all. Lanelle, I do hope you know what you have done to me? Crushed I am, just crushed. And if this wasn't bad enough, if it wasn't bad enough to find out my love only wants to play with snakes, Lanelle informed me of something else I was blissfully unaware of: I am a freak! Jesus mother of God. I am a freak! I thought I wrote about turds and blue jean arses because I was perfectly sane and non freaky! Oh good lord there is nothing left for me. I am a freak whose true love will only ever see me as a friend because I don't have enough of one equipment and too much of another to satisfy her. Thank you so so much Lanelle. If you had given me your correct email address I would have been able to address my concerns to you personally but alas you did not. And so I go to play with my knife and wonder why 'normal' (whatever that may be) Lanelle has nothing better to do than leave pointless remarks that do nothing but state the obvious and make me giggle and make you look stupid Or maybe you just wanted to split me and my lover up. What's wrong with a love affair that carries on solely in your head? Well, fuck it, I am a freak after all. Goodbye cruel Lanelle and your viscious viscious words. They have pained me so horribly that I cannot say your name without fear of acrid bile spurting from my kissable lips but really, thanks for visiting and do drop by again, incase I make it through the sad and lonely night.

And so I go to pine over a love that never was and never could be.

Listening to: Sometimes by my love