Teenage Dirtbag

I don't care anymore. None of my friends really do.

About what?

About any-fuckin'-thing.

A lot of things failed us, and we failed a lot of things. An excuse? No. Just the truth.

Here's another one: I want to feel bad about what happened to her, but I just can't. She was more than a terrible cunt that made us hate her, she wasn't really a person. A liar. A wanna-be victim.

A moral? I guess it'd be to not pretend to want something, you might just get it.

Oh, my morals? I have plenty. I'm just actually honest about my feelings.

What? There aren't people you wish would fuck off?

Yeah? Fuck yourself. You asked me for the honest truth, and I'll give it to you. Just stop judging it all. I'm not a bad person, I just didn't care about her. I still don't. I do care that she keeps moving my shit when I try to sleep at night. But it's not scary. She was a ghost to begin with.

Yeah, yeah, that's harsh. It's the truth. Don't ask for it if you don't want me to tell it.

You do want to hear the truth?

Then read on.

It's quite the ride though.