Gravity Won't Get You High

So...
Person 1: Why are you so inqusitive if you can't take any of my crap? You want answers, but you are too prude to accept that I am not perfect. Thank you for routinely making me feel less than adequate.
Person 2: Arrogance, my friend. Too much. I. am. taken. And you are annoying. So you can go kill innocent people now. And that facial hair...it's called razors. While you're at it, take growth hormones.
Person 3: You hurt me bad. But I moved on to bigger and better things. I realize all the things that were missing, and how much better I am with him, even though my mother likes you, she's not the one dating you.
Person 4: Materialism kills. You need abrir tus ojos! The world is more than perfume, magazines and rock concerts (although those are fun). We don't care that you got a new pair of shoes. We don't care that you are a spoiled brat who won't be able to care for herself when she gets out into that big, scary world.
Person 5: I hate you. I know you don't think I mean it, but I do. You chain down my soul thinking that such things hold down souls. You don't know all my secrets, the dirty secrets laying behind our door.
Person 6: As much as I love you, I resent you for ruining our holidays, the times we spent worried shitless about you, wondering if you were dead. Stints in the hospital for attention? That's low. I am ashamed when I have to make up excuses when I go see you because you can't take care of yourself.
Person 7: Dude. Don't touch me. I know you're friendly and stuff, but lunch is time to chill with friends, not having you poke me for fun. And you know what? I will stop taking your food.


Ok. Back to fashion now. xoxo, maia