:: I Am Just A Jealous Guy ::
It really is none of my concern with what you wish to do with things from the past. And the present.

Sometimes, I rather not know. I rather keep myself blind. I rather take comfort behind my shield, so what I might (or might not) see will not make a wound in me. Sure, call me a loser.

Call me over sensitive, too. At this point, I don't fucking care. I have to scream for some attention. I have to keep calling. I have to keep messaging. I have to keep whining. I have to keep throwing my tempers over little things.

Just so I can have a little attention.

Pathetic. But very, very true.