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Time Bomb
Hello. My name is Chesara. I'm 18 & I live in New York. My Blog is a variety of different things, mostly gifs. If you have any questions don't be afraid to message me. Au Revoir.



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Why is this fucking happening ?

Why can’t it be simple. Why can’t people just move on. What did I do to deserve this pain.


So for the millionth time this month, someone made a joke about my breast size.

Ahem
My name is Chesara. Im a 2nd Semester Freshman in College.
Im 5’0 and weigh 97 Pounds. My Breast size is 34A.

After years of low self esteem, i finally did the math. My boobs are BUILT for me. If i were a D cup as every person expects a girl to be these days, i would fall over from being top heavy. I used to buy pushup bras to make myself busty like my friends. But why lie? Why does breast size matter? Why do you need a huge bust in order to “look good”? Hey. If my boyfriend likes my boobs and thinks they’re perfect. That i’m perfect. The fuck do you think your opinion matters to me?


Talking to my grandpa about my new relationship.
  • Grandpa: So this guy Justin. You like him a lot?
  • Me: yeah.
  • Grandpa: Mm.. He make you happy?
  • Me: Yes he does.
  • Grandpa: okay. Then I like him too. As long as he makes you happy. He's okay in my book.


You know what’s unfair?

Someone leaving your life completely just because they can’t have you all to themselves.
How selfish could you be? I don’t want special treatment. Or constant attention. Or even hugs. But could I have my friend back? No?
Well fuck you then.


Yes guy who just messaged me.

Please, continue to message me about how much pot you smoke and how you love to party. Yes. I’m totally impressed. Please excuse me while I kiss my amazing boyfriend who hates smoking as much as I do.