"Welcome to the real world," she said.

I just laugh at that now.

The real world is not $60,000 inheritance, you know.
The real world is not pretty pretty horsies and ribbons either.
Nor is it paunches, short hair, or mommy's car.
It's not car phones and jobs at the waterpark.
The real world will not let itself be blown off by the likes of you.
The real world is not stealing someones favourite pair of pants.
The real world is not fucking around with the heads of every guy you stumble across... because the next one, or the next one, or the one after that... he is going to hurt you. He is going to break parts of you.
Good luck with that real world concept.
The real world is not Cosmo, People, Flair or Playboy.
I'll tell you what it is.

It is grease in your hair and dirt in your teeth.
It's breadlines and AIDS. It's the punch in the face that gives you the black eye. It's the skin left under your fingernails. No wait... it's the skin under MY fingernails.
It's changes for the worse vs. hope for the better.
It's a life of dark ignorance where they pass out blinders if a slant of light breaks out of it's box.

It's children and best friends dying, and you can't do one thing about it.
And we... we the people who are REAL... the people who eat the soup and bread, the people who sweat blood, the people who both cry AND clean up after ourselves... we the real people do what we can with all of it.

So fuck your Real World, princess. Fuck it.

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