What's up teenage angst?
How's your daily haul of incessant texting, apathetic stances, and
rampaging hormones?
Did you remember to roll your eyes at the cheeriness of others?
Or were your side bangs blocking your vision?
Maybe we should go to the mall sometime,
And complain about everything,
minute details included,
And giggle at cute boys-
who are actually older men,
whose motives are questionable.
Or maybe, we can give 'hopeless future' a call,
And see what sort of indie-grungy stereotype MTV would offer then-
Oh the irony of hobo bags, pre-ripped jeans, and vintage falling apart
excuses for clothing:
An
accurate
depiction
of
internal...
teenage...
confliction.
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