giggling. FURIOUSLY.

All this unimaginative bullshit. Every story brings one plot. One meaning in different colours. Is a person more interesting if they have more stories? Or if they can make one event into a thousand stories?

I don't really care. The suffering thing is that I've spent around 90 percent of my life vying for attention. My excuse is that I'm not all that special, and I'm not all that impressive. I don't think I won an award for anything that was based solely on my own efforts. Sure I've won trophies but it could be said that is because of the rest of the team.

I'm used to being one-upped, but then again, I still hate it. Sometimes I want people to care what I say.

Wow this is whiny. Ah who cares. The only person I can actually remember caring more than an afterthought about what I said is gone, mostly because it made me uncomfortable that she did listen. That she cared. Just like now, when Justin- a new fascinating friend of mine- does nice things for me, it actually confuses me.

It took me until now, when another genuinely nice person comes along (not the first, when it counts) and blows my mind with overwhelming confidence.

People tend to learn a little too late. I'm no exception.

It does me no good now, all I've learned and accomplished in my head. Well I don't mean that... I'm sure I could really use it someday, but the important moments are gone now, and all that is left is the final countdown.

Lol.

I'm in denny's

And that makes me giggle.

FURIOUSLY.