A mon ecole il ya 2 sortes des filles.
Celles qui sont hashtag selfie pi celles qui sont hashtag YOLO
Les hashtag selfies y a des bonnes notes, elles aimaient des cheveux, elles veut sauver l'environment et les pauvres enfants noir des ni'importe aux.
Elles s'habille sensiblement, elles porterait des jean.
Un peux de marquillage. elles ont des face serieux, suspcieuce soupconneuse.
Les hashtag yolo y a des notes poche, elles aiment des garcon avec voitures, elles veut aller aux club toujour pi faire n'importe quai.
Elles s'habille comme des salope, trop sexy, trop maquillage,.
Ses sont toujours pret a rire a 'nimporte quelle connerie Les filles de mon ecole vite deux extremes.
Il ya elle qui sait rien comment s'amuse, pi y a elles qui qui son trop obsede.
Moi je veux rien de ca. Je veux trouve mon place qui je me sent bien.
Je veux retourne vers la source. Les filles de mon ecoles son dominers par les homme.
Les selfies par ses peres et les yolo par ceux qui fornis la drogue ou ses copines.
Les selfies se vit avec la peur q'un mauvaise note peux rendre s'avenir dans trou. Les yolos est pret a baise un entrager pour un gramme de hash.
...qui je sens bien dans mon peux.
Penelope put down her diary. The fierce north wind came up threw the window. He whistled through the screen door and flipped the pages in her Dollarama diary. She'd learnt to draw from deviantart. You might say she couldn't if emo manga wasn't your thang. All her friends were better artists, their lighting and proportions were closer to reality if thats how you define it. But Penelope's had a li'l summin summin. Marie's had blood. Lise's had nice kimonos. Penelope's had pregnancy.
Paul Anka's "Havin' muh Baby" was a disaster.. A fairly obscure singer called Ginny Reilly once put out an album about the experience of motherhood. It had a cover punk rock bands would have died for. It was Ginny, wearing a maternity dress with a huge picher of coca cola on her her preggo tummy. She smiled with a smug self-satisfaction. She had half a child growing inside of her, and a pitcher of poison death syrup on top. There was a circus tent behind her. The composition of this image was perfect, it would have been striking as a silouette.
Penelope'd seen this photo once. Her mother had gone to the faith healer's to get the tumor shrunk. She was supposed to go play with the faith healer's kids and their friends. but they were all boys and there were only four controllers on the 64. She waited upstairs with a colouring book and her packet of crayons. She didn't want to draw anything, their house was so interesting, she had to look around.
There were cookbooks in the kitchen. The vegetarian epicure, Laurel's Kitchen, Moosewood, Enchanted Brocolli Forest. Boring. There were the eldest brother's video games on the top shelf. Both Diablos, Starcraft, Expansion packs. Dungeons Seige. Thief. Black packages, she knew better than to touch those.
Then there were the casette tapes, durable,colourful album art. Van Morrison. Julian Bream, Osho's Chorus, Liona Bond, Tracy Chapman, and of course Paul Simon. Well developed. She finds the album. It's title is doodle lee doin. She's confused by it. She can't imagine what this kind of music with this silly cover sounds like but she stares. She has to stare. She is so cute when she's confused, her eyes widen and they get bigger. It makes her facial features look neotenous, closer to the proportions of an infant, triggering protective, embracing instincts.
Her moms comes out then, but she gets to talk with the faith healer first. Penelope puts down Ginny Reilly's Doodle Lee Doin and picks up her colouring book. A waft of lavender massage oil. Momma's relaxed in the car. Penelope looks at the little raindrop collect on the windshield. It finally sinks in that only girls can have babies. She's slow.
Pi moi je fais que she veux.
Old Man Wind shakes his head. The trees rustle. Old man wind blows over her notebook. The spirit of the air saw it's secrets they saw the weird fetuses she drew X-ray vision inside the bellys of anime people with emo hair. Scene isn't a thing yet. Brokencyde will soon drop Freaxxx. By then Penelope's days of picking teams to be on all by herself will be over.
Old Man Wind rides the clouds out of the dreamlands. He rides into Montreal down the twisted alleyways that have sprung verdant green. He flies into town in Myrtle Beach, weere the living is good. He find himself on a beach. Asleep with his hat over his face. He has a grin and an erection. He has a white beard and lines as deep as chasms.
Bad Young Man otherwise known as Poison Man sits in the pines. He knows the time is short. he is afraid and angry. The forest protects him now, the forest is his mother, it is his friend. His mother has to work, she cleans the floors of sick old dog shit at the SPCA. Bad Young Man has nothing to do all summer, he goes and shoots his bow and arrow. He lets his hair grow. He wants to kill something. At first he wanted to kill whoever's responsible. Now her wants to kill whoever's guilty.