We’re not about quirky.

When I come back, I don’t want to see your face. Let me walk through the front door and have you NOT talk to me. Let me be weird in peace, please. Let me walk upstairs and let me be uncomfortable by myself. Don’t talk to me about the supermarket. Don’t talk to me about dinner. Don’t talk to me about boys. Don’t talk to me about the neighbors. Don’t talk to me about money. Don’t talk to me about the weekend. Don’t ask me if I have plans. It used to be so quiet. Can’t you practice authority quietly? Weren’t all the powerful rulers, you know, in history books and stuff the real quiet ones? The loud ones just had receding hairlines. I’m not going to worry about money that much once I’m gone or about being too loud. I never tell you anything. It used to be so quiet.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: