Nothing really matters, none of the stuff you care about, matters to us. It's funny, because most of us, or all of us are deeply wounded in our cores, we live on mountains of shattered dreams, superficial trash, restless bygones that torment us so they never really become bygones, and all because of you, because of the walls you used to strain us, because of the fancy visions you painted for each of us, because of all the shit you forced us to want just like you. It's funny cause we became your opposites. Probably after listening so much crap, so much fairytales and fantasies, we decided we didn't want to be wannabes of the grey monstrous jungle, we wanted to be individual, original, genuine, but most of the times we found ourselves limited by the love we had for you, and there's nothing we could do to save ourselves from the missinterpreted paths that this kind of life forces us to take. Aside of the future you made for me, aside of all the guilt you made me believe was mine, aside of all the silences I had force so I wouldn't hurt you, never in my life will I forgive you for what you've done today. You can care about fruits and vegetables, cars and gold, you can do whatever you want with my life, but I'm never forgiving you for today. The difference with you chosing my future before  and now is that yesterday I had accepted and I was willing to smile at life, now I'm just in a state of constant rage until I run away.