I'm not as cool as you.
My friends aren't as down as yours.
My parents don't make as much money as yours do.
I probably smoke and chill more then you do.
And you probably do more drugs and rage than I.
My clothes aren't as cute as yours,
And the car I drive is 10 years older then yours probably is.

It bugged me before, but then I realized I wasn't put on this earth to try and replicate your lifestyle, so I'm learning; that's what college is for right?
Figuring yourself out.

fog city

I woke up this morning to tears running down my face and black smudges on my pillow and my sleeves. I still had the taste of nicotine on my breath from the night before when we stood out on the fire escape and talked about things we hadn't talked about to anyone since we moved up to San Francisco. Our talk consisted of our futures, our pasts, our parents, drugs, depression, and cigarettes. This nicotine is making me nauseous, but i fear the mint from the toothpaste will also make me nauseous. Everything is making me nauseous.