You're Living Like Fate Wrote You To.

Hey Chicken Brains.

I was suppose to do my homework today but I decided to do other things instead. (Story of your life)

I woke up this morning to find myself upside down and naked in my closet. I was covered in peanut butter. Just kidding. I'm amused to know that widened your eyes. But really, today was special. As all days in life are. (yada yada, let's save that proverb bullshit for fortune cookies)


I arrived at school too early today, so I stayed in my car and cranked up the volume; closed my eyes listening to 'Like We Used To' by A Rocket To The Moon to brainstorm possible music videos. I have to say, an Asian boy sitting in his 01' Mustang in a high school parking lot couldn't be more lost in thought than those intense moments. I then thought of how I used to do these kinds of things earlier in the year and would be interrupted my Megan's goblin-like tapping at my window.


Low and behold it happened two minutes later.

Fast forward to Break,

and I'm walking around, staring at the small faces surrounding me again. Trying to make eye contact with as many of them as possible--just because I can. I think: "Who's happy? Who's sad? Who looks like they don't give a shit?" I take note of the kind of shoes they wear, their color scheme, their expression. I guess I'm digging for some hidden connection that will light that bulb above my head; I guess I'm obsessed with my theory that we're all connected on a deeper level somehow. I guess I'm full of shit.

Fast forward to lunch.

I'm walking and I see a glimpse of my reflection in a classroom window. I see a nearly 18 year old young man walking around. I think: "...fuck." When did I start growing up? When did I get this tall? When did I care about girls, money, college, and semantics in life? Where the hell am I? Am I even typing this? By the time these words and the ideas behind them come to life, they'll be in your head. Which means I already finished this blog. Where am I now?

"Stfu about emo philosophical bullshit Kid Will and start really talking."

AIIIGHT.

I chopped off a pound of my hair today. I finally got sick and tired of seeing my girly curly locks on the back of my neck. Kromatic Hair is too expensive. My would-be hair dresser is retarded because she didn't call me back--even though she said she would. Three weeks and I've looked like a woman--NO MORE. I busted out my Exacto-Knife and started scraping off bundles of femininity. Mom came in horrified to find hair all over the bathroom. But I persuaded her to join my brigade of rebellion and in my success, she bestowed upon me the secret weapon:
These fucking epic scissors that cut off small bits of your hair. Soon, I was finished. And now...I am not a woman. I do not even look like a man. I look like a prepubescent Asian boy.

And with this new image,

I will end you.