I'm a beast on the dance floor. I can carry a conversation without the use of pronouns. I stay out until the crack of dawn. I wear skirts and combat boots. Makeup is my friend. I drive my parents' BMW and top it off whenever I feel like it. Everyone likes me.
I think guys are awesome because guys are always on my mind because all I can think about are guys and guys and guys and more hot guys. The world revolves around attracting the attention of the opposite gender.
My world.
Which is everyone else's world, of course.
Among my friends, I am known as a bit of a brat.
I grind like there's no tomorrow. I speak incessantly about nothing at all. I sleep in class. I like advertising my skin. Pasting layers of crap on my face is fun. I don't understand the concept of making my own way in the world. Everyone puts up with me.
Among my friends (if I really even have any friends), I feel like maybe there's something missing.
To be honest, I don't think I have any friends.
If I were my friend, I wouldn't like me.
Thank goodness I haven't got any.
Friends.
Or me.
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