So there’s this woman round the block, we go to church together. She feels my clothes are a “little too short”. But she doesn’t come and tell me, she shared this with her friends.
All hail, The world renowned stylista gives her opinion on my wardrode. Whoo Whaa Whoo Whaa, I am honoured to hear thou hast been fervently paying thy much needed attention to my garments. I shall kiss thine feet, tremble and tear my robes as I listen to your words of wisdom regarding my rags. I beseech thee to speek to me.
Firstly let’s count the number of F*s I have shall we
ENDLESS! And now for the number of F*s I am willing to give
Wait, so this is the part where I have to give a F*
Oh I refuse to give even a single!
I am not dealing with this. I REFUSE!
REFUSE I SAY!
You have a problem with me, but you go and talk to someone else about it? That’s clever.
You know what. Whatever!
Basic and irrelevant to this phase of my life.
Maybe one day we might be on the same page. You know what they say “life is unpredictable”. But in the meantime really.
Truth is,I’m only 23 years old. I am way too young to even comprehend the irrelevance of your opinion about what I wear. Trust me I’d love to try explain but where does one begin.