( 1.5 ) s i m o n
STAB ME WITH A SPORK AND IT WOULD HURT LESS than this. I'm saying this despite the fact that I have no clue how does it feel to be stabbed by anything vigorously, or in any force at all. My week have been a complete pain in the neck for my stupid and petty mistake. Not being able to look after such a simple thing is definitely my lowest points in life if you exclude the incident when I tripped over air in front of a bunch of girls.
I've tried improvising and drew on my dad's discarded office papers, as I still don't quite have enough money to get a new sketchbook. I mean I can invest in a cheaper one, but I feel that it's better to wait a little while longer to get one that's better in quality.
I didn't go to the field these days to sit during lunch as the growing amount of people there is making me slightly uncomfortable. Social anxiety doesn't work well with school, if you ask me.
I found a nice flight of staircases to sit on where nobody can find me. I feel the usual short 20 minutes extend whenever I'm there, looking at the sky. But that just proves that time is relative to where you are, what you are doing and who you are waiting for. I learned that quote many years ago, but the last part doesn't really apply to me that much, I choose don't read into that too much.
It's weird to think how I never liked anyone in my life before romantically. Everyone would be holding hands with their girlfriends and boyfriends while I sit here like a lifeless loser. I don't know whether I'm just slow or plain aromantic. I'm not in the place where people say they can 'swing both ways'.
I just can't 'swing' at all. Not even back and forth. The only thing I can do is panic. And it's not even at the disco.
Unknowingly, I went back to class with the thoughts of swinging circling around my head. Not metaphorically, but a reoccurring image of me just swinging in my head kept playing in my brain.
Maybe I should get myself checked out.