All I want to do is to sit back in some worn out plastic chair, infront of some place old and nostalgic. A place filled with memories & stories & grime & listlessness & wistfulness & age.
Some place without shiny chrome finishings or pompus minimalism or any of that Apple-age crap.
A place filled with vegetation & dampness & decay. Full of wrinkly old people sitting on their personal worn out plastic chairs and glowering at any passerbys.
Youth is wasted on me. I should have just transitioned between adolescence & senior citizen without having to grow into an adult. Being an adult is one tough job. Argh.
The girl who got old
16 Sept 2011
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