Nick Powell:
[observing his mother]
Don't worry about it mom, this won't change a thing for you. Got everything under control, right? You've always had your fingers in everything, you know. Fingering through this house... Me. My room?
Nick Powell:
[breaking into a rage]
Don't! Don't feel a thing mom! You don't want to ruin your face, your pretty face! I'm out there in the mud - I am dying mom! And you're sitting here with your briefs, and your herbal tea, and your books? I wish you could see me right now mom, so you know how sick I am of you! I am sick of you, and your perfect world! I am sick of you, cause it's not perfect, You hear me?
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 09:33
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