I know it’s fucked up, but I really routed for this bitch when I was little.
its not fucked up because sharpay was just trying to chase her dream and be the bEST SHE CAN BE BUT GABRIELLA CAME OUTTA NO WHERE LIKE LOL HEHE TROY LETS DO ALL THE MUSICALS FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES AND KEPT TAKING SHARPAYS DREAM AWAY FROM HER rude ass bitch
And sharpays songs were SO MUCH BETTER TOO THEY WERE FUN AND GABRIELLA JUST SANG ALL SLOW ABOUT LOVE AND SHE MADE YOU WANT TO FALL ASLEEP BUT SHARPAYS MUSIC WAS THE SHIT
Okay and Gabriella not only messed with Sharpay’s dreams, but every time Troy looked at another human with a vagina or followed his dreams, she threw a fit and was ready to dump him. I cannot stand Gabriella.
Remembering’s dangerous. I find the past such a worrying, anxious place. “The Past Tense,” I suppose you’d call it. Memory’s so treacherous. One moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights, with poignant childhood aromas, the flashing neon of puberty, all that sentimental candy-floss… the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go. Somewhere dark and cold, filled with the damp ambiguous shapes of things you’d hoped were forgotten. Memories can be vile, repulsive little brutes. Like children I suppose. But can we live without them? Memories are what our reason is based upon. If we can’t face them, we deny reason itself! Although, why not? We aren’t contractually tied down to rationality! There is no sanity clause! So when you find yourself locked onto an unpleasant train of thought, heading for the places in your past where the screaming is unbearable, remember there’s always madness. Madness is the emergency exit… you can just step outside, and close the door on all those dreadful things that happened. You can lock them away… forever.”