I went to visit my parents last Saturday. I don't usually do that, but I was in a good mood and it turned out to be quite a good day. As I walked in their house, the house I've spent little over 21 years in and called 'home', I felt out of place. It felt smaller than it used to. I'm still the same size as I was when I moved out last year, my parents are still the same size and the house sure hasn't changed its size. Still... it felt slightly too small for me. Maybe I've just grown so much mentally by moving out that I just don't fit in there anymore... (Not that I want to fit in there.)
Women don't like me. They see my body and they see my smile and they decide that I'm something they don't like. But they don't know.
People think I'm silly for not drinking. For thinking that alcohol is just another drug. But they don't know.
I've heard that I'm ridiculous because I don't like the concept of birthday presents. But they don't know.
I don't know.
No one really knows.
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