I'm like whoa
It's not uncommon to crave a lifestyle that supplies a greater need for more. I never said I wanted fame. All the while, would I reject it if it rooted me to you? Would I deny financial safety? Pay the loans, buy my dad a boat, let him breathe a while.
But would, in turn, I find it fair for them all to wait outside my door in buses, plastering my life on their pages? $1.99 I'm in the crossword, 4 across, THIS celeb's husband left her for a hot blonde. Denied me children, wasted time, called me distant when I fucking begged for chances to sit down and do the work.
Now it's me and it's not worth the millions to make movies that teach girls that being your quirky self will get you men and joy when, really, if you want a husband you need to work with kids or computer screens, have dirt blonde hair, and watch the cartoon network endlessly. Those women have never even made his friends laugh. They don't make him apologize or come correct, or work on shit. When there is no fire inside, no fires need be stomped. These women are safe.
He's not going to stand under your window with a radio above his head. He instead will say he did everything he could and it failed him. He may even believe it. In truth, he hasn't even tried. So no, it isn't worth the fame to teach the young to follow me to a lonely, skinny, miserable Dior death.
Don't want to be famous. Who cares? Who can find their keys in a 6.2 million dollar house anyway? To want these things is silly, sick, and you will find you've lost what you came from. Please remember celebreality is boneless, limp, and hungry. These people aren't changing the world. They are in a petrie dish, studied, being watched for disease. It's what it is.
But would, in turn, I find it fair for them all to wait outside my door in buses, plastering my life on their pages? $1.99 I'm in the crossword, 4 across, THIS celeb's husband left her for a hot blonde. Denied me children, wasted time, called me distant when I fucking begged for chances to sit down and do the work.
Now it's me and it's not worth the millions to make movies that teach girls that being your quirky self will get you men and joy when, really, if you want a husband you need to work with kids or computer screens, have dirt blonde hair, and watch the cartoon network endlessly. Those women have never even made his friends laugh. They don't make him apologize or come correct, or work on shit. When there is no fire inside, no fires need be stomped. These women are safe.
He's not going to stand under your window with a radio above his head. He instead will say he did everything he could and it failed him. He may even believe it. In truth, he hasn't even tried. So no, it isn't worth the fame to teach the young to follow me to a lonely, skinny, miserable Dior death.
Don't want to be famous. Who cares? Who can find their keys in a 6.2 million dollar house anyway? To want these things is silly, sick, and you will find you've lost what you came from. Please remember celebreality is boneless, limp, and hungry. These people aren't changing the world. They are in a petrie dish, studied, being watched for disease. It's what it is.