crush a daisy for me, please
Just tell me how to be different in a way that makes sense.
I want to make this all go away and to disappear.
I know that's wrong because it's my responsibility, and I know that things always get worse before they ever can get better.
But I'm ready to change.
Sometimes I walk around the school hallways and look at the people. I look at the teachers and wonder why they're here. I wonder if they like their jobs, or us.
I wonder if they're happy. And sometimes I wish it for them, but other times I just wonder how smart they were when they were sixteen.
Then I look at the thousand other students around me and wonder who’s had their heart broken that day and who doesn't want to live their lives and why. I wonder how we're able to cope with all that we do; Tests, essays, futures, finances, friends, and friends who would be lovers if the elitists would only believe that we could be.
Or maybe if we were only braver.
Why does it all have to be so personal? It's much easier not to know sometimes.
The only thing I know for sure is that the seasons keep changing and friends leave and life never stops for anyone. It makes me want to laugh or get mad or to just shrug at how strange everything is.
I think that the idea is that every person has to live his or her own life and then make the choice to share it with other people. You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives in front of yours and call it love. You just can't. You have to do things and be things. And you have to do and be them for yourself.
So, I'm going to do what I want to do. I'm going to be who I really am. I'm going to find out who that is. And I'm not going to be ashamed of it.
We could all sit around and wonder and feel bad about each other and blame a lot of other people for what they did or didn’t do or what they didn't know.
I don't know. I guess there could always be someone to blame. But maybe it's always a little different.
I want to know the difference. I'm finally ready to change.
And the Crows deserve a thank you too. Merci.
Blue morning, blue morning.
All your life is such a shame, shame, shame.
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream.
Open your eyes.
You can see the flames of your wasted life.
You should be ashamed.
You don't want to waste your life.
So, change, change, change.
Edit - Sometime in the future: Everything above was written by stephen chbosky. I remember searching the author out the next morning. And driving the hour to the books store the next day...Atleast somethings never change.