Guess who’s turning 20?
I guess Wallace.
“No”, Wallace says, “You’re the bait today.”
6 Minutes to Turning Twenty.
Why? Why me? I don’t wish to grow up. I wish to stay like this forever. Fat and immature. That is my USP.
Wallace says to break out the L-word. I say “Lesbians?”
“Funny.” Wallace says, full of sarcasm.
5 Minutes to Twenty.
I am aloof. I am broken. I am callous.
“No, you’re just whiny and overdramatic”, Wallace says.
“I don’t think overdramatic is a word.”
4 Minutes to Twenty.
Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking, when I said I’d like to smash every tooth in your head.
“Listening to The Smiths does not maketh a woman cooler.” Wallace says.
“I actually do like them.”
“Do you, now?”
3 Minutes to Twenty
I check Facebook for obligatory wishes by long forgotten ‘friends’.
2 Minutes to Twenty
I’m not ready to make a choice. Yet. Maybe after a minute? I hope for a miracle and expect the worst. I’m ready to face reality, I think.
“What is the big deal? It’s twenty, not the end of the world. You’ll just have to clean up your act.” Wise words from a fool.
“My act, you say? I have none.”
“Everybody acts, you’re no different. You’re just a better actor or you think you are.”
“I’m turning twenty; I don’t need to listen to you, Wallace. Go away.”
1 Minute to Twenty
“Wallace, where are you? I need you, you fucking idiot! WALLACE! Fucking retard.”
I can hear the sea.
Happy Birthday to me.
(PS- Yes, it is my birthday (the big 2-0) and no, I don’t know what prompted me to write this broken piece of crap. If you can understand it then kindly explain it to me.)