not being you improves my quality of life exponentially every second
if i had to make a list of the top ten people who suck, you'd probably hit number one. congratulations, you trumped two heartbreakers, an emotionally and physically revolting chubby mop of rich kid, and a suicide. well done, it seems your two faces have aligned in one repulsive hateful collection of childishness. even when drunken drivels berate me into a mess of mascara and high school arms at 5 in the morning, i can shake through a deep breath and smile: i don't count on fake charisma to rock me to sleep at night, i'm not you. and i'll never have to convince myself i didn't do to someone what you did to me; i won't have to. i may be stuck in a black hat and $12 earrings at the end of the play, but at least i'm not in earmuffs, screaming for silence and banging my unkissed mouth with my flabby, patriotic fist.