tavie.com

I wish I came from a wealthy family. Or intellectual or artistic elite. Some kind of elite. Money, at any rate. I wish I came from money. I come from poor, hardworking folks. Good folks, I love 'em.

It really sucks that everyone I know with money (a term I use loosely, seeing as my family falls under the broad "middle class" category, as opposed to the "dirt-poor" category) is just as funny, smart, nice, creative, talented and wonderful as everyone I know without money. And that most of the people with money I know are just-- or roughly-- as hardworking as the people without. I really want to be able to be bitter about something, and I really can't, because I am too rich in other ways to be able to afford the delicious, Belgian-chocolate-covered delight that is self-pity.

Fucking Cherry Valance. Things are rough all over, Ponyboy.

Ach, I dinna like these moods.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:53 AM | shower me with attention