(no subject)
Today I was talking to my Dad about perhaps going over to Sean's house tomorrow. He started talking about how sometimes, when people go through hard times, like having their parents get divorced, their judgement gets thrown off. They make decisions that they normally wouldnt make. He was talking about drugs. And I thought to myself, wow, he's describing me. And he said that he knew that my brother and I were smart enough not to stoop to that level. I looked him in the eye and said I understood perfectly what he ment. No flinching. And he took it all in so perfectly, cause he knows that no son of his would ever do that sort of thing. He knows that not the way he raised me. He knows he has a good boy for a son. Not one of those smoking boys. He doesnt understand me. Once or twice a month, is that so bad? It's not going to kill me. Its fun. I like it. He'll never understand that. Its my life, I can do with it what I want, and there's nothing he can do about it. Im going to smoke and drink all I want. I'm going to play my bass guitar. And when the time comes, I'm going to get rich. And famous. And then I'll look back on it all and laugh to myself, knowing all the crazy things a did, they were all just par for the course. Me? Guilty? Nah....