I'm stoked for Creek Rock 2011.
December 2011
That's a shame, you're adorable (:
._. Thank you, anon. :x
DO you like boys or girls?
I think some girls can be really cute or pretty (mentally and physically), but I like boys.
November 2011
Look,
I understand that it is impossible to have every single person in the world liking one thing. There will be haters no matter what. I’m not the biggest fan of golf or wrestling, but I don’t go around flaunting: I HATE GOLF! IT IS THE WORST SPORT IN THE WORLD. WHY IS IT EVEN A SPORT?
I understand that not everyone likes Key Club. It’s inevitable. That’s okay. I understand if you don’t like a certain person in the club or if you don’t like the way things are ran or if you don’t like going to service events or if you don’t like the club as a whole. That’s okay. I get it. We don’t need to have common ground.
But please DO NOT declare it on social media sites or even to my face that “Key Club is gay!” That is just plain out rude. What do you have to back that statement up? Okay, okay, maybe the guys do get a little friendly sometimes, but that’s only because we’re a family. I’ll shrug off the common: “Do you make keys?” or “It’s just another Asian club,” but I will not shrug off a distasteful comment about this club.
If you say it one more time…
Ugh.
tired of being tired
Stop Tumblr, I’m trying to do homework.
Goal before I sleep: Finish 3/4 of my essay (rough draft)
: Set up powerpoint presentation to finish editing tomorrow
: Five pages of econ notes
: Finish MNYB flyer
I can’t wait for this hell of a week to be over.
Next week is Creek Rock.
The week after is finals.
Then break.
Once third term comes, peace yallz—I’m checked out.
Wondering if I should take some spring classes at CRC..
wuhevz.
kgo.
Anthony Chen
- Jessica: /talking about Wesley, me getting into UCLA, frats, rushing, parties, and alcohol
- Anthony: What?! I don't think I want to join a fraternity in college now..
- Anthony: I don't want to go to parties and get drunk! I want to actually learn!
And when love does
come knocking
on my rusted and worn
door
and I receive your
messages
of
“You inspire me so much”
and
”You are so adored”,
I make myself
remember
all of the ugly
I’ve let in
and I let my
past
suffocate me
until I say the words,
“No, you can’t come in”
And I wish I could
tell you
I’m sorry
I’m far from good
and I hope
I don’t inspire
you
not one bit,
not at all
because I don’t
want you to be
who I was.
