This is an open letter from a teenage girl who would like to say, I am not a dog. I will not, and have no desire to fetch when you throw, the hoops you demand I jump through to of course get the job- to get money- to get a house- to get… what?
These goals hold no draw for me, I find myself less and less enchanted with you every moment I spend in you. Where is my fairy tale ending?
Did you not promise me love?
Oh I see, I was of course under the impression, or at least operating under the assumption that life is fair.
It’s not, who told you my weakness’ and handed you the poison?
Was I too naive to breath easy and not break the mold? Too angry with the state of my future to stay on your path because listen to me closely Society.
I work a job that 40 year old woman strive for, a part time cashier at an A-Typical department store. I don’t do my homework because it makes me feel like I’m dragging myself to a finish line in a race I never entered.
Who told you you could make my life choices for me?
You’re not me.
An open letter from a Teenage Catastrophe.