Rant, rant llalalala
One found herself content with a certain white powder. This brought on some perplexity but in retrospect, it makes perfect sense. The weaknesses within people know no bounds and have no prejudice. So this one that I thought I could rely on to retain some of her intellect did not come through. Surprise? Again, certainly not in retrospect.
The sickly one proved to be just that. Utterly ill in so many more ways than I could have thought up in my spiteful rebuttals. She is the liar- the liar to end all liars in my lifetime. There was this story she would tell everyone, to make people think she was strong and had survived a lot of real tough shit so far in her short, unfortunate life. She became addicted to heroin, she said, and she just couldn't help herself and it became so bad that she overdosed and was in a hospital for months. Of course, it went much more in depth than that. But in reality, her fairy tale had spawned from the weekend that she spent in the hospital as a result of a bad case of strep-throat. It was sort of an adventure to be around her though. I got to play a constant guessing game of what was a partial truth and what was a complete lie. Something as utterly insignificant as- so where'd you get that pretty nail polish, Blank? And she came up with explanations of how she stole it from Publix, or bought it while she was in Rome last summer. On top of all that, she was a slut. I can remember four specific occassions where she fucked a guy she had just met (we were only fifteen, mind you ). And I had thought that she was just so damn interesting when we were becoming friends.
There was one more that I really felt let down by, she had the same name as the first but she was so very, very different. Fake is the easiest way to describe her. I suppose there's nothing else necessary to say in her reguard.
For years I had wondered why I chose to be around those people and the answer never changed. They were all that I had, because everyone else was exactly the same as them. I just hadn't invested time and emotion into any others. One thing that all those people would always say of themselves if given the chance would be, "I'm different from everyone else. My mindset is so not like anyone else's and I'm far superior". That last part would remain unsaid though, they would all be to chickenshit to be honest. But in contrast, if I learned anything from those unhealthy years spent with people who must have absolutely despised themselves, it was that I am more different than my selfish teenage mind likes to think. I honeslty didn't (and certainly still don't) give a shit about the things most people my age live for. Is it because I have actual interests to take up all my time or do I just have half the amount of hormones as others?
I could kill myself for actually thinking that something was wrong with me. What exactly did I want? To be like them?
The sickly one proved to be just that. Utterly ill in so many more ways than I could have thought up in my spiteful rebuttals. She is the liar- the liar to end all liars in my lifetime. There was this story she would tell everyone, to make people think she was strong and had survived a lot of real tough shit so far in her short, unfortunate life. She became addicted to heroin, she said, and she just couldn't help herself and it became so bad that she overdosed and was in a hospital for months. Of course, it went much more in depth than that. But in reality, her fairy tale had spawned from the weekend that she spent in the hospital as a result of a bad case of strep-throat. It was sort of an adventure to be around her though. I got to play a constant guessing game of what was a partial truth and what was a complete lie. Something as utterly insignificant as- so where'd you get that pretty nail polish, Blank? And she came up with explanations of how she stole it from Publix, or bought it while she was in Rome last summer. On top of all that, she was a slut. I can remember four specific occassions where she fucked a guy she had just met (we were only fifteen, mind you ). And I had thought that she was just so damn interesting when we were becoming friends.
There was one more that I really felt let down by, she had the same name as the first but she was so very, very different. Fake is the easiest way to describe her. I suppose there's nothing else necessary to say in her reguard.
For years I had wondered why I chose to be around those people and the answer never changed. They were all that I had, because everyone else was exactly the same as them. I just hadn't invested time and emotion into any others. One thing that all those people would always say of themselves if given the chance would be, "I'm different from everyone else. My mindset is so not like anyone else's and I'm far superior". That last part would remain unsaid though, they would all be to chickenshit to be honest. But in contrast, if I learned anything from those unhealthy years spent with people who must have absolutely despised themselves, it was that I am more different than my selfish teenage mind likes to think. I honeslty didn't (and certainly still don't) give a shit about the things most people my age live for. Is it because I have actual interests to take up all my time or do I just have half the amount of hormones as others?
I could kill myself for actually thinking that something was wrong with me. What exactly did I want? To be like them?