Your car is Japanese. Your vodka is Russian. Your pizza is Italian. Your kebab is Turkish. Your democracy is Greek. Your coffee is Brazilian. Your movies are American. Your tea is Sri Lankan. Your shirt is Indian. Your oil is Saudi Arabian. Your electronics are Chinese. Your numbers are Arabic, your letters Latin. And you complain that your neighbor is an immigrant? Pull yourself together.
I would be that girl who, on a Friday night, wants to stay home and paint rather than go out and party with my friends. Of course.
And.
Stop trying to fucking witness to me. I know what you’re doing. Do you forget that I would go there every week with you?
Thanks.
I never needed you. I can make my life on my own. You give me hell growing up and as soon as I leave the house you give them everything I wanted. Thanks for that. I’ll show you that I don’t need you.
