I just want to get hired already :(
I was born crying and my family smiling. When I die, I want it with me smiling and my family crying.
Walking home, got called a chink by ghetto black girls already. I forgot the emphasis they put on minorities here. It’s probably worse here in the east or at least where I stay. I’m the ugly duckling. Hypster-pocket shirt and club shorts that I wore made me stick out even more. I need to stop thinking it’ll be just like Cali. It’s Nike-Jordans city here. I refuse to adapt to the fashion sense. I’ll just keep my head down. Lmao.
I’ve been bitter lately. Like the time I last saw my father. Why am I unsatisfied? Maybe it’s because I’m more worried about my brother’s future more than mine. Maybe because our neighbor is a fuckin fuckface and I should’ve killed him when he was talking to me with a chainsaw in my hand. Maybe it’s that I breathe urban and I live in the suburbs of Caucasian popularity. I’m no racist but I do miss the modesty from my and Guam’s culture. There’s a couple of Indians down the block but they try to stay unnoticed like us. I can easily talk to Shar still. I goodmorning her nights and goodevening her mornings. I’m still trying to get use to the 9 o’clock sunset. It’s a cold morning right now. The birds sing the sun up. I hate their noise.
Stop being pussy when you’re getting pussy.