Wa Wa Wa

I'm going home today. Back to a twin sized bed, home cooked food, and an upcoming rumble with my brother. It's unimaginable that I won't lay a friendly wallop on him--as he undeniably will respond by pounding my smaller frame into the ground. A weekend filled with more of this--this sloth of an existance, pulling hairs on Wednesday nights and shooting up on b12. This mindless array of neverending ends; you feel as if you've run into a brick wall. But that wall is pregnable--oh, how I know--yet once through its translucency, another comes to fall on your toes. But now my feet hurt and I want it to stop.

"Wa Wa Wa," says the hipster sipping his earl grey on my brink of Tuesday's disgust.

A hole has ripped in my left shoe. Whether it is the width of my foot or the poor stitching of some dreaming teen, I don't know. I usually wouldn't mind, it's just that it's raining. And my foot is wet.

"Wa Wa Wa," says the hipster setting down the needle to press upon that music which is only bearable in vinyl. "How unbearable." "How faux-pas."

I hate school. There, I said it.