there are people out there
and you try to talk to them, and complain about the world around you and the insubstantial rainbows and love and pool parties and instead of just having a normal conversation and holding your hand and telling you what they did last friday, they are looking at you and then instead of telling you that you're not perfect, they tell you why you're not perfect and they try to tell you what will make you more perfect, as if they hate you for not being perfect. As if they know they're not perfect but they feel as if everybody else should be as perfect as they can never be. And then you feel bad about putting this feeling into words. Because before you just felt frustrated and choked up and now you just have that dull feeling in your stomach of "oh, I've done something wrong." And that's when you want to give up on life and float in a limbo, only the limbo comes in lime-flavor only and you just found out that you're allergic to them.
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Hi. I'm Angelica. I like Pokémon and complaining. I'm a youngster, but I freak out like a 42-year-old mother. This is just me worrying about getting into college.