Kiss my sass.

I'll bring back the sass. because I'm sick and tired of being shoved around. and placed like a mannequin. and dressed up like a paper doll. and that's all I have to say about that.




We build walls. we build bridges. we close doors. we bottle it up. Because we are scared for the most part. I build walls. I hold this city up. but I'm more than ready to move to the next town. I'm ready to read the next chapter. I wanna finish this book with a Happy ending. not a "I'm constantly controlled." ending.
Why do others try to knock your walls down. and burn bridges. and open doors with locks. and break the bottles? History is proof that this only leads towards a war. Metaphorically speaking. (you learn a lot while TAing for a history teacher)
I feel like I've been spit on. right in the face.
this may sound selfish. but... after all I've done for so many people. after all the gifts. all the advice. I get nothing. I feel worthless. and I have nothing but a full heart. for very few.
I'll screw up. and I'll learn the lesson on my own. i don't need your help to make me feel like I've been spit on.



Happiness is a warm gun.