i love my dad.

'where are you going for this party?'
'you don't wanna know. dad, no, seriously, you don't wanna know'
'no, just tell me.'
'NOOO, you might say no! seriously, dad, you don't wanna know.'
'felica, just tell me. damn.'
'..uhm, st. louis.'
'..'
'I TOLD YOU YOU DIDN'T WANNA KNOW.'

he's giving me advice about what to eat before i drink so i don't get too sick later, what'll definitely make me puke, and more..

i love you. i love you. i love you.
i love you so fucking much, and this still hurts.
i'm still feeling shitty because of you.
maybe not as constantly, but it's still gradually getting
worse
and worse
and worse.











i'm just one of ninetynine.