When I'd get all dolled up to go to sunset with a friend or two to some fancy french restaurant and pretend we were famous.
If only it were those lovely simple wreckless times when no matter how sober I was, I was never wearing half of my clothes in the middle of our artsy parties and to them it was just the usual.
I wasn't some fall from grace or anything as sudden as that.
It was just a long falling out of absolutely everyone from that beautiful, ethereal, hollywood-esque group of teenagers who couldn't handle their drinking or drugs or sex under wraps from the others.
We were the real-life Skins.
We were the brat-pack of 2006-2008.
And I miss the hell out of that.
My new obsession, Hark! A Vagrant's webcomic.
On a more humorous note, I'm pretty sure I'm getting carpel tunnel.
No comments:
Post a Comment