I find myself fleeing from reality more and more, clinging to the sanctity of the Closet, refusing to come out and play. You'll have to drag me out, motherfuckers, screaming. And kicking and flailing like the pussy that I am, throwing a tantrum en grande para que todos me vean revolcarme en el piso like the wretched worm that I feel we am.

Damn. All this for a Physics class, dawg. But no, it's more than that, Ninja. It's not the class itself but what it represents. I can't fail a college course, no way. I'm trying to prove to ourself that we can hack having a shit-end job and a crappy class that I couldn't give a naked rat's ass about. No, I don't give a naked rat's ass. Not even one. Or even half.

"Oh, no que ibas a dibujar, mondingas?" 'Ama gripes, entering the room. Yeah, we should be doing our homework, Ma, I know. But quitcherbitchin' an' jus' leave us to it. Keep your sermons to yourself, I already know I'm wrong.

I wish sometimes that I could stop the world from turning, just make it all

STOP.

And then I can lie back and nap. Nap and relax my muscles away into nothingness until my bones are no more and we end up with tentacles like Jack's. He would like that, I bet.

Stop whistling, 'Ama. It's pissing me off. And I don't wanna be pissed at you, porque eres mi madre y te mereces mi respeto.

Wow. She actually stopped. I should too. And then get to it (my homework, I mean). I need to be up early tomorrow for my drawing class. Whoop, there she goes, bitching about my shoes. "Deberias lavarlos," she says. Mom, do me the favor and shut the fuck up. I like my shoes the way they fuckin' are, a'ight?

No le andes hablando asi!

Callate el hocico, guey, and make me shut up.

No creas que no lo puedo hacer!

Ya! Both of you cut it out! We shouldn't be fighting! We need to act together now more than ever if we're gonna get through this.

So we're gonna stop this now.

I give up, guey.