try to mold me. try. see what happens.

Current mood: royally pissed off.
Current song: Sparks - Coldplay (which contradicts my mood, but the song's amazing anyway and you should all listen to it).

You know what I hate? Those people who try to bend you into something so much that you literally feel like breaking. Like the you inside of you is stamped out and replaced with some hybrid human. Like you're just a puppet with no control of your movements whatsoever.

And I get it, okay? I get that you want to have your perfect show. I get that you want us all to be perfect dancers. But you can't just take every single piece of my week and cram it into your fucking musical theater prep classes. I love theater, I really do. But I love rock music and friends and horror movies and sodas and watching the stars from on top of a roof. It's not as if my week isn't full enough already: voice lessons on Monday, rehearsal on Tuesday and Wednesday, cramming all homework and studying on Thursday, band practice on Friday, rehearsal on Sunday. Saturday was my sleep day, and Friday was my one day where I could forget about lines and blocking and vocals and just think about my electric guitar and pick.

And now you force me to join some dumbass dance class just so that I can be like all the rest of your dancers. Newsflash, lady: I never signed up to be a dancer. I don't want to dance. It's bad enough already having to sing a duet with a boy whose voice is higher than my own. I never planned to dance. I just want to act and sing. I want a good show, but I also want a life.

So stop stealing every second of it and let me live.