A couple of nights ago, Nins and I were on the pavement, legs crossed and folded to our chests, eyes trained forward into bleak futures, our surrounding air filled with wisps of smoke spiraling out of our mouths and words of pained musings imbuing the humid air.
We were a couple of messed up girls in pajamas talking about our reality.
It feels so nice to know that you are not alone in your suffering. Our rickety paths may be different, but our thoughts on how fucked up everything is coincides.
We both have a mutual dislike for adults, ever since we knew each other five years ago.
I saw how teachers mistreat students who needed help and she saw how counselors truly messes with your mind.
It is so easy for them to say things, to suggest things, to advise things but so difficult to put themselves in a person's shoes and realise how challenging it is.
Why should they put themselves in a child's shoes? They no longer fit.
How high and mighty they are to dictate what we should feel. How arrogant they are to control our lives. How pathetic they are to stumble over their words when they notice how dire the situation is for us.
Irregardless of that, they all have the same underlying thoughts.
These kids are the screwed up youths of the future.
