But they are serviceable.
All I really wanted to do was sit out on a patio while sipping on something warm and sweet while listening to weepy music. But I didn't get that did I? No. Instead, I get my alone-time invaded and get knuckled into retarded situations. Maybe my life isn't meant to be exquisite. Maybe I should just be happy I'm getting by.
Lia, Lia. Why is it that whenever something goes wrong in your life, you run crying to your blog like it's the end of the world? And your pants are on fire. Sucky days are supposed to make you stronger. And what are you complaining about? Some smutty little revelation that the people you know aren't as cool as you thought? The fact that you feel so cut off from your parents that you can only stare dumbly at the screen as you read their cold and thoughtless emails? The fact that you're too chickenshit to pick up the phone and call them up? The fact that you resent them like hell for being too stubborn to do the same?
I worry about you sometimes, Lia. You're too proud, too in love with sadness.
Put it somewhere else, for christ's sake.
It doesn't matter.
I worry about you, too.
All I really wanted to do was sit out on a patio while sipping on something warm and sweet while listening to weepy music. But I didn't get that did I? No. Instead, I get my alone-time invaded and get knuckled into retarded situations. Maybe my life isn't meant to be exquisite. Maybe I should just be happy I'm getting by.
Lia, Lia. Why is it that whenever something goes wrong in your life, you run crying to your blog like it's the end of the world? And your pants are on fire. Sucky days are supposed to make you stronger. And what are you complaining about? Some smutty little revelation that the people you know aren't as cool as you thought? The fact that you feel so cut off from your parents that you can only stare dumbly at the screen as you read their cold and thoughtless emails? The fact that you're too chickenshit to pick up the phone and call them up? The fact that you resent them like hell for being too stubborn to do the same?
I worry about you sometimes, Lia. You're too proud, too in love with sadness.
Put it somewhere else, for christ's sake.
It doesn't matter.
I worry about you, too.
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