Does it matter if they do?

Will they get mad if I tear up this bible and litter the shreds all over the carpet?
Will they get mad if I take the Book of Mormon with me in this laundry bag?
Will they get mad if I knock over this cup of water even though I’m really thirsty?
Will they get mad if I write song lyrics and literature references and draw spiderwebs all over the walls?

What if I do it in ink?

Will they get mad if I eat all of the jello in the fridge but spit most of it out into the trash?
Will they get mad if I sit against the trash can in the kitchen and refuse to move while pretending to cry?
Will they get mad if I crush the graham crackers up in their packages only to later discover how good of an ice cream topping they make?

~*~

“Security will come and move you if you don’t get up!”

“I love security guards. Some of my favorite fucking people are security guards.”

“Whatever you say.”

I RESPECT A BADGE MORE THAN A STETHOSCOPE.

~*~

Imagine my disappointment when security never came.

Next time I’ll remember not to clean up after myself.

~*~

Will you get mad if we get a bill for all of this that I can’t pay on my own right now?
Will you get mad that I’m still asking you stupid fucking questions?

Will you leave?

~*~

Someone called me the “Actress of Life” so I ran with it for a little while. Correction: I pounced on life for a little while.

~*~

“During all of it, you were still always so nice” said my sensei one morning in the day room.

If I could do anything differently it would be to have written “it gets better” with a heart on every clipboard I could find.

~*~

It really does get better.

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