i feel like asking my grandmother if shed like to share a smoke. but i know shed tell my parents. she has nothing better to talk about. hey now...its legal. fuck off. if i want to fuck up my lungs thats my choice. maybe this numb sadness is good for me. this fucking vampiric emotion. every time it seems like i am happy enough, it comes back and dips its teeth into my neck, and drinks my happiness and optimism, until i am stuck here in a lifeless heap feeling a need to be self destructive. no, im not talking about cutting. just...things. kisses, hugs, sex, and drugs. drink up, johnny. hard liquor at its finest... am i invisible? am i too sweet? too sour? is there something wrong with me? is there some reason that you look right through me? i give up. i give the fuck up. my mother told me today i cant have a party. so...everyone. when would the best date for you be? im not going to do any of that shit. just calm the fuck down.