when you grow up, will you be the savior of the broken, the beaten, and the damned?
there's a reason i act the way i am. it's not unprompted and unplanned, and i am not who i am today out of the blue.
there's a reason i flip evaluations over after i look at them, regardless of the number.
there's a reason i only ask you "how did you do?" and not, "what did you get?" i could care less what you got, and i wish you would care less about what i got, too. i've never believed intelligence can be accurately measured by a number or a letter, and i sure as hell don't believe knowing your grade will affect mine. thanks for telling me about your 98 anyway, though.
i need you to stop considering the useless things as your meterstick for that false feeling of being cool, loved. whatever. please stop showing me photographs of you and your friend and ask me to tell you how cute the two of you look. you need not to jump at every moment of silence and preceive it as an opportunity to remind me how much of an "original individual" you are. but seriously, kudos to your five-lettered comments on myspace, i'm glad how loved and important they make you feel.
in all honesty, knowing you log onto myspace every day after school makes me feel sorry for you. find a new calling, fix your life.
you think you're so different, and you'd like to think you're someone who doesn't give a damn, but i know better. i know you care for the whole world inside.
why don't you forget about trying to be so original for a moment and put more effort into finding who you really are? i don't even know who you are, but this screwedupactingsingingdancing pastiche quoting random show tunes is standing in front of me. i can see through your ways, and i know you just want attention. you're living in a fantasty world where you're trying to get everyone to love you.
wake up.
i wish you put more effort into me when you were at college.
i wish you would get on your knees and thank god for all the 235325 fortunes you do have, everytime you cry over your "A-" in honors math. if you're looking for me to tell you how smart you are, i've got no sympathy.
i did not autonomously become who i am today. all of you made me into this - none of you have a piece of yourself in me, and i hope you never will.
watching and observing you every day makes me only desperately want to never be like you. i never want to use comments on myspace pics to make me feel loved, i never want to sell my soul to achieving worthless numbers on papers, i never want to ignore my friend because i moved a few hundred miles away. i'm not going to be fake. i'm not going to pretend to like someone to his face and then wait until he turns his back to complain about him. to his best friend.
get a life.
PS: stop reminding me it's almost your birthday.