Sept. 30. Lisa and I decided we would try a new group. They have a different flavor of ‘gum’. We like it. Pretty colors.
Sept. 30. Lisa and I decided we would try a new group. They have a different flavor of ‘gum’. We like it. Pretty colors.I’ve given up. I was never going to pass that boundary and fit in. The best I could hope for was somewhere on the edge. A place where the lines blurred between popular and not. A place where you didn’t have to think of snappy things to say, or strut when you walked.
I heard of a couple of kids on that stood on that border, one foot dangling over Socials, the other planted in a country of their own. They hung on vines suspended over no-man’s-land, a bunch of Tarzan-teens swinging from one group to the next. Swaying toward an abyss I’d always been told
