I love when I get into a cleaning mood and make my room all nice and bright and tidy. I love the way my desk is all pretty and cutesy and organised and the way, despite hangover, I hoovered the whole house.
I hate being so fickle and biding my time like this… just in case.
I love how I’ve become enthusiastic about reading again. How there’s three books on my desk and I’m genuinely excited about reading them.
I hate being poverty-stricken. I hate being a crap candidate for jobs and I hate that I can’t think of anything that I can do to prove that that’s not me anymore – I will work. And how.
I love how soft your hands felt. And I love that I had a giddy smile on my face for twenty minutes after that brief encounter. I love those butterflies.
I hate the colour of my room.
I love that I’ve been getting the answers right in Chemistry lately. I love that I understand what’s going on now, even if I don’t know the name of the chapter.
I hate knowing that I’m going to fail the mocks. I don’t really do failure so I’m not really prepared for this.
I love taking photos with my friends. I love my friends and how beautiful and funny and fun they are.
Groupies or something.
The sexual tension. . You could cut it with a knife.
Om nom nom. Hotcakes.