HEY LOOK WHAT MY PERIOD CRAMP CAN DO PLAYING WITH MY BRAIN THIS IS PRETTY COOL TOO RIGHT WHATEVER INSANE ASYLUM GO SUCK THUMBS NYE NYE NYE NYE OH CAN I HAVE ICE CREAMS PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE?


Dear Period,

I know you’re coming soon. Your bloody self, I mean. Maybe in the next 3-4 days? But I would like to make a special request this month. Could you please come faster? Like maybe right now as I’m typing this down?

I’m so sick and tired of you playing this game. IT’S NOT FUNNY DAMN IT. You poke me. Then you’re gone. Then you poke, poke, poke me so hard until I wanted to SCREAM BLOODY MURDER and then you quieted down. And then you gleefully do it again the next day. And it goes on like that for a week. I’M SO FED UP WITH YOU THAT IF YOU’RE A SOLID PERSON RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME I SWEAR I’M GOING TO SLAM YOU WITH A SLEDGE HAMMER AND RUN YOU OVER AND OVER WITH A SCOTTER WHILE LAUGHING MANIACALLY AND DANCING NAKED ON YOUR GRAVEYARD DIE YOU MARSUPIAL DIEEEEEE!!!!

There. That’s how much I adore you barging into my life every month.

Not only am I troubled by your constant prodding with your blunt knife, I am also terribly emotional. Yes. Yes. I know you come in a package. A whole goddamn package. Cramps, emotional outburst, back pain, lack of appetite- the whole shebang. Is it really that fun to cause menace in my body, having wild orgies in my ovaries, playing tick-tac-toe with my emotions? Huh? Huh? Huh? I can’t see the fun in it! AY CAAAAAAAAAAANNOT SEEEEEEEE ITTTTTTTTT! I CAN ONLY SEE MY BLOATED TUMMY WHICH YOU! YES YOU CAUSED IT DAMN YOU PMS DAMN YOUR SOUL TO ETERNAL HELL AND DAMNATION OH DIE YOU SICK BASTARD DIEEEEEEEEEEE!

Why is everything and everyone against me?

*sobbing at the corner*




Yours faithfully,

Me.

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