So it just turns up that my grandparents think its funny as hell to blame me for everything in the lamest reasons.
You stole my scissors.
No I didnt, I have my own!
Right you just take mine because you lost yours.
No I know where they are... They're in my bedroom.. In my bed.
God I know where my Scissors are I mean like 3-4 weeks ago I cut myself with them, Im pretty sure I know where they are.
I hate them both sometimes, Im ready to leave the fucking nest. I'm tired of it. Just plain tired of them..
Whisk me away already before I go insane. Yeah that'd be the plan. Ha.
