That’s a simple and generic title.
Fathers’ Day. Or is it Father’s Day? Depending on how you look at it, it could be either. Father’s Day. Except I have none. I don’t count that drunk loser as one. No, sir. And now he smokes. How cute! Nope.
Though… I have had some father figures… namely Mister Brooks and Mister Rauch. They’re so cool. :) I miss them. Especially Brooks– I haven’t seen him or talked to him in a while. Perhaps I’ll try emailing him again and see if he replies. I need to email Mister Rauch, too. I’m really bad at emailing people these days. I used to email ten people a day when I had all the time in the world. Now all the time in the world has been given to the generation after me. Harrison. Emma. Tucker. Bianca. For some reason, you have all the time in the world when you’re a child, and it gets less and less especially after you get into high school. But I don’t mind most of the time. Most of the time it’s nice to be relatively busy– as long as it’s with something I want to be busy with. If it’s bills or pills or goals set for me by people who have no relation to me yet who still think they know what is best for me, then I’d rather just sing Come Sweet Death and listen to the instruments.
