More fucking teen angst, god.

I coast into the flaring nostrils of a wild German horse, only to find my mother’s crutch, my sister’s blush, and my brother’s bald spot. Nevermind.

Insert: Ode to an uphill struggle;

I have nothing to say too you , because it’s all about me,

But go ahead and talk yourself blue, I’ll just nod and sip my tea.

Because I hate stupid people.

I don’t like the looks of you, the way you dress, the way you address me,

The way you always look so in distress.

Because I am no knight in shining armor.

Does it radiate?

I can see through you so precisely, because I am made of lead,

But even with this lack of curiosity, can I get the fat girls in bed?

And I hate ugly people.

So I fell into a mold for a little daze, I’ll get out of it some day,

As for now I am unconfident and depressing, so please fuck off until I learn my lesson.

Because I hate explaining this bullshit.

Does it radiate?

Buy the Book!