NP: Styrofoam Plates - Death Cab for Cutie
Fuck this shit. I give up.
Just when I thought my mood couldn't get any darker, my mom comes in and gives me shit for owning Donnie Darko, a movie she's never seen and couldn't understand if Richard Kelly explained every second of it to her. I had to consciously restrain myself from striking her narrow-minded, prissy little face, which is something I've never been driven to before. I'm sick of this. All of it. It's all just bullshit. My past, my future, and my heart are at the mercy of a mean little woman who never once tried to understand me and called it love.
My only memories of better times are contained in a travel-sized shampoo bottle sitting next to my computer, but they only threaten to destroy the dam holding my tears in check.
It's over. There's no way out.
Fuck this shit. I give up.
Just when I thought my mood couldn't get any darker, my mom comes in and gives me shit for owning Donnie Darko, a movie she's never seen and couldn't understand if Richard Kelly explained every second of it to her. I had to consciously restrain myself from striking her narrow-minded, prissy little face, which is something I've never been driven to before. I'm sick of this. All of it. It's all just bullshit. My past, my future, and my heart are at the mercy of a mean little woman who never once tried to understand me and called it love.
My only memories of better times are contained in a travel-sized shampoo bottle sitting next to my computer, but they only threaten to destroy the dam holding my tears in check.
It's over. There's no way out.
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