Graduation put me in the hospital.

It was supposed to be grand. Graduation. Class of 2013. Funny hats and nun looking gowns. Tassel cord things that cost $6.50. High heels and black ties. Fancy dresses and fake smiles. Perfection.

It's a load of bullshit.

I don't care if you got a gold or silver tassel cord thing that cost $6.50. I don't care if the dress you were wearing was $200 at J. Crew or $12.47 on Targets clearance rack. I don't care if you took pictures with every person you ever knew, pretending you'd been besties for life. I don't care if your parents brought you flowers and your whole family came to cheer you on. I don't care if you posed in front of the camera while walking across the stage or tried to do something funny so maybe you would be a little more remembered. I don't care where you went to eat after or how many pictures you posted on Facebook. I don't care if you gave Chip Coop an open condom while shaking his hand.

I don't care.

I think it was supposed to be a good day.
I think that is what I've been told all high school.
I think I was supposed to be happy.
I think I was supposed to smile when I walked across the stage.
I think I was supposed to be on time.

I think I was supposed to care.

But it's all a load of bullshit.

And I ended up in the hospital.
Where they didn't even give me the good drugs.