All the cool kids are hanging out in parks puffing on the cigarettes they secretly hate while alternating drags with sips of awful alcohol that burns all the way down and sets their bellies uncomfortably warm. Their eyeliner is smudged and their eyes are empty. Their lips painted red and when they smile red smudges are spotted on yellow teeth. They listen to music about living now, dying young, and leaving behind beautiful corpses. I cant help but realize they’re all fakes and I hate them. I’m currently writing this down in my journal with a cigarette i hate hanging from my lips and a plastic cup containing *** sitting beside me. They’re all so fake. I’m so fake.