I don't know what's gotten into people these days.
Specifically, my friends?
A few of them, at least. I don't know why I'm blogging about my readers. I just can't not write about it.
You're nice to me. And that was great. Next thing, you snap outta your usual self and transform into this complete schizo. You made me cry.
Come on, I didn't know friends had last chances.
And you tell me over the phone that I JUST used up my last chance?
Well, so much for being friends. I'm not angry at you.
I'm hurt.
And you know why?
I don't think you do.
Cos you all lied to me. I already knew the truth. My point is you lied to me.
You asked me why I bother asking you.
I ask you why you bother LYING! You still won't admit it?
We swore to each other we'd tell each other everything.
I don't expect it to be EVERYTHING. It's about me.
Nothing that serious. Why won't you tell me?
Why do you have to lie to me?
I thought we were open to each other.
You see, that's another problem. I THOUGHT.
But was I wrong? I guess so.
I HATE that phone call. Do you know how HURT I felt?
I wanna call you my best friend.
I love spending time with you.
BUT WHY GIVE LAST CHANCES?
True friends? Give me a break.
I can't believe this is actually happening. We're arguing over the smallest things. And all of a sudden, I've got a last chance. And all of a sudden, it's used up.
And all of a sudden, I feel horrible.
THE WORLD DOES NOT STOP.
I thought you were a real friend.
I thought.
SO YOU SEE THAT MY LIFE IS A BOWL OF CHERRIES.
What a bad case of PMS. No, it's not PMS for you. Now I know your true colours.
And do you know how much my parents LOVE you?
They treat you as their own.
And I have a freaking last chance.
And that last chance is used up.
Because of one minor logical pissoff.
I want to tell you now how much I hate that.
How pointless this all is.
I wanna talk to you.
But I can't.
Why?
Cos my last chance is used up.

Thanks for being my friend.
May you live a long, happy life.

PAT;

boombox generation: