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Literature Text
I cried in the locker room - no one noticed.
I cried on the bus on my way home. This old couple was staring at me - their faces phasing between pity and disgust. No one asked me if I was okay.
Why did I cry?
I don't know.
There's one or maybe two major fuck ups in my life. Like telling dad I'd rather kill myself than be seen with him, and actually meaning it, or that time I pretended I couldn't hear the blind guy asking for help across the street. These things are horrifyingly true, but they happened ages ago, yet I perpetually feel so bad, about that, about me, about everything.
I guess, today was about a piece of trash teacher accused me of copying my schoolwork, and running into a guy who called me dumb a year and a half ago.
Anything qualifies today.
It's just one of those days I feel like dying.
I cried on the bus on my way home. This old couple was staring at me - their faces phasing between pity and disgust. No one asked me if I was okay.
Why did I cry?
I don't know.
There's one or maybe two major fuck ups in my life. Like telling dad I'd rather kill myself than be seen with him, and actually meaning it, or that time I pretended I couldn't hear the blind guy asking for help across the street. These things are horrifyingly true, but they happened ages ago, yet I perpetually feel so bad, about that, about me, about everything.
I guess, today was about a piece of trash teacher accused me of copying my schoolwork, and running into a guy who called me dumb a year and a half ago.
Anything qualifies today.
It's just one of those days I feel like dying.
© 2014 - 2024 Sjemenka
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