Imitation is suicide.

"You know, when I heard you were coming back I thought that I might hate you", we both laugh it off, both knowing you're being malicious, both knowing I'm weak and horribly reliant and disgusted with myself. But this is my open letter to you. I'm tired of your bullshit. The subtle condescending comments paired with the "oh aren't I darling" looks won't fly with me anymore. You've stereotyped yourself in to a corner and you're cementing yourself in; I won't chisel you out. I get the fact that you think it's cute, and that you think I'll put up with it. You are wrong. The racist, homophobic, brainlessly nationalistic remarks are thrown out haphazardly now-- toeing my limits with a jacked up chevy-- honey, I'm reinforcing that line with barbed wire. The paint job won't come out the same. Daddy won't be proud, and the rest of us will be on the road soon. I've realized a lot of things lately, this education thing works sometimes when you accept it. I'll bust my ass and look ridiculous now, but I'll get somewhere, and I'll have done it without scamming people for favors. I'll be able to stand on my own two feet, will you be able to say that? 109 days. Advance on Chaos and the Dark.