✮ BEACH BUMS ✮

『TO NEW BEGINNINGS』

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗢𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗧𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗕𝗘 𝗔𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗗 <𝟯

𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑬 𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑰𝑺𝑬 (𝑷.𝑶.𝑽)

𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦. 𝘈𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘺𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵...

I stared at the organically disgustingly, perky, and fun journal 'Did I seriously write that down? God help me I need therapy'. I mean, in all honesty, I shouldn't have a reason for being so deranged. I think it's kind of entertaining putting up this front as a perky, considering that most people only see the big tits and blonde hair and that's enough for them.

No one really expects the girl with a picture-perfect suburban family to actually have feelings. Not to mention being able to squeeze into those cheerleading uniforms made by some pervert that needed just a little more eye-candy. It's just so ironic, I always wondered what it would be like to be poor. Maybe people would see me as some bronze slut that was gifted with the right assets to get through life, instead of some girl who bought them at fifteen. Which might I say is probably the biggest spit in the face to nature, and I would never recommend doing such. 

Anyway maybe if I go talk to my family I will stop moping over my cynical thoughts and try human interaction. It may just do me some good, maybe. Speaking to my Father is basically is just nodding, because if I slightly disagree he will blow up at me for challenging the patriarchal power of this beach house.

So I make it downstairs and sit on the couch, put on some television. If there's anything you should know about me it's that I was raised by television and I blame it for my heightened expectations therefore the following disappointment of the complexities of actual teen life.

I turned on a personal favorite of mine, 'The Corpse Bride'. I find tragedy is far more interesting than a love story, they're more realistic. The divorce rate is basically fifty percent and since the chance of me finding my 'dream man' are slim to none, then I'll take my chances going solo.  

It must've only been ten minutes before the movie was over, I got a text from my friend Brie who notably I am closest with. 

𝘽𝙍𝙄𝙀𝘾𝙐𝙏𝙄𝙀1 : hey babws beach rager nite, u up for it? <4

𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑳𝑶𝑼 : Hi, I am doing well thanks for asking.

𝘽𝙍𝙄𝙀𝘾𝙐𝙏𝙄𝙀1: hashas your funy

𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑳𝑶𝑼: I'll be there in twenty to hold your hair back.

𝘽𝙍𝙄𝙀𝘾𝙐𝙏𝙄𝙀1: don't be sqear be sqaot 

𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑳𝑶𝑼 : Ok. 

She was drunk again... What a coincidence. I might as well get dressed, I dug in my dresser and found a white cover-up. It seemed that the whole virgin mary look scared off party boys, they are like lions. They prey on the weakest of the herd and pick off the gazelle with the fractured tibia. Or in our terms, the girl who just got cheated on their D1 bench warmer boyfriend named Chad or Zach.

I didn't wanna show up in my car, or any car that my family owned for that matter. It would draw too much attention to myself, in retrospect it probably wasn't the best idea to bike to a beach rager but it would be better than getting my car waxed with 'Black Cherry WhiteClaw'.