Wasted youth tshirts. So Glamorous. I remember the glamour, of being sixteen years old and not leaving the house, washing, brushing my teeth, getting out of bed for days and days and days because I was too depressed and too young to be officially diagnosed with anything apart from a rough patch. It was so glamorous I tell you, the wasting of my youth. So glamorous staying up at night, my tears mixing in with the blood on my arms to create a sweaty metallic smell and a faint yellowish colour. That was super glamorous. Itβs really cool the way you think depression is so glamorous. Β I bet your idea of a wasted youth is sitting in a park getting high with your friends instead of studying, isnβt it? Thatβs why you wear that tshirt. To show people you are going nowhere. Call me in a few years when youβre out of this phase, when youβve got a great job and great friends and maybe even children, because your head never stopped you from living your life, and you look back on your youth and roll your eyes and smile. Iβll answer the phone from wherever I am then β prison, a hospital, a flat from the council designated to βspecialβ people, the streets, rehab, a tombstoneβ¦ and Iβll tell you what a wasted youth was really like. Aside from glamorous, I mean.
