Is there something wrong with you?
Are you okay?
What happened to you, Lina?
You seem depressed.
Where is your strength and determination?
Why do you sleep so much?
Get up and do some work.
I work several hours a day.
You don't see me complaining.
I feel perfectly fine. Perfect.
Maybe you should try to be too.
Be perfect, Lina.
Be perfect, just like me.
Stop wearing that dark eye makeup, and listening to that horrid music.
You only get one shot at life.
You need to make the most of it.
Stop lying around and wasting your days away.
You aren't gonna get anywhere.
Stop devoting yourself to those stories, music, and those god ****** angst poems.
Stop spending your time writing that *******, in a world where people that get degrees, succeed.
And stop picking at your lips and chewing your nails.
It's disgusting.
I don't care if you think it helps or calms you down.
It looks disgusting.
You're ruining your lips like you're ruining your life.
My lips are perfect.
Smooth and glossy, like the hair that sits upon my perfect head.
Why are you so far down?
You need to be up here.
Maybe listening is some kind of crime to you.
Otherwise, you would have listened to the billionth time I told you to stop picking at your lips!
Stop picking your lips like some kind of garbage.
You cannot be garbage.
You have to be perfect.
Be perfect. Just like me.
Stop telling me how you feel.
Because you need to be perfect.
Pay attention.
Stop daydreaming and staring up at the sky.
Like the clouds are supposed to give you all of your life's answers.
Because it won't.
Because your life is a mess, just like your lips.
Cracked and broken.
****** and red.
Stop writing Lina.
Stop wasting your life away.
No, I don't hate you.
No, I'm not mad at you.
I'm just trying to help you.
Trying to set you up for a bright future.
Trying to let you be successful.
You have to let me love you so you can be perfect.
Perfect.
Just like me.