. . .
I don't understand you.
Every day you tell me I'm fat, ugly, too nerdy, lonely, poor, and "uncool". You tell me all the time how much less I am and have than you. Just because I wear guy's jeans, just because I'm not a solid eighty pounds, because I like hoodies, because I like other stuff? I thought we lived in a society where someone could like what he or she or xe wants without being ridiculed for it. I don't see how anything you call me out on are bad or negative.
Oh? I like video games. Cool. No big deal. I don't go around saying "LOL I'M SUCH A NERD <3<3<3", it's just something I like to do.
I like hoodies. I don't go around saying "LOL SO GANGSTA <3<3<3", it's just something I like to wear.
I like jeans that aren't skinny jeans. Doesn't mean I'm hippie or anything else you have to say.
I'm not the tiniest anymore. But that's okay. I don't need to go out of my way to impress anybody. Just because you think it's necessary to wear loads of makeup, buy fashionable clothes, and wear whatever it is teenagers think are cool so you can have someone to date, you aren't in it for the right reasons and you aren't looking for the right people.
And I'm allowed to not like hipsters. I say one thing about you being a hipster and you get all sensitive about it.
I don't go around showing off how "different" and "special" I may be. I don't do anything like that. I enjoy what I do in my own privacy and that's supposed to be okay in the twenty-first century. I don't go around showing off all the different labels I could fit into. I could write every word that could describe me on my forehead, but I don't because if you're going to get to know me you need to get past the words.
I actually cared about you. I blame your girlfriends for messing you up.
and dammit i got the top of the page again