I really hate those awkward stages of life when you feel apart from everybody else because of what's going on inside you. Like thoughts because I think about a lot of things, and sometimes my brain turns into a ramble akin to this:
"I'm walking to French class. Dang it, I have to go to French class and I don't really want to because there are a bunch of high schoolers who I sit around and don't have the nerve to move away from and the one who sits behind me and is my partner in all those activities from the French book swears a lot and I'm really hungry and it's before lunch and whoa there goes another girl in bright colored skinny jeans."
And then, say, somebody would come up to me and say something like "You know, I really don't want to go to French," and I'd think "Yeah me too," but I'd already be in the rut of people with bright colored skinny jeans. None of which I own, of course, but this is a world where girls like me usually don't get desired clothing. Like boots. My mom won't get me boots, which bugs me 'cause she went boot shopping for my older sister, who has the wrongest taste in boots and it's not even funny. But that's okay, I guess.
See, this is the kind of thought train I usually get into, and it's not exactly comfortable dragging myself out of all the deep thoughts I have and everything seems shallow if I do. And yeah, sometimes thinking about bright colored skinny jeans is deep thoughts.
Another example of awkwardness is like what this post is right now, where I'm sitting here thinking Okay, in the next paragraph I will subtly slide into the topic of finding comfort just like the title says and you're thinking I thought this was about finding comfort or Bye.
Then that's where you're drawn back to the real world and you realize that you can still be comfortable with your deep thoughts and awkward non-bright-colored non-skinny-thank-goodness jeans. Especially if you're a guy. The only guy who can pull off wearing bright-colored probably-non-skinny-but-you-can't-tell-anyways-jeans is Liberty, who also happens to be my only vegetarian friend. That I know of, of course, 'cause couch potatoes count as vegetarian.
Today happens to be one of my uncomfortable days, which is one of those ones where you have secrets that worry you that you can't tell anybody and so you have to keep it to yourself. Keeping things to yourself isn't very good for you. Maybe that's why I do it so much, but then again, there are some things you should keep to yourself that I don't, 'cause I'm so full of words and stories I LOVE to share them. Again and again. I also like rambling, but you know that.
However, I managed to find some points of comfort. Such as showing off the scrape on my elbow that I got from slipping down the stairs. I love showing off injuries just about as much as I love to share stories. And I get a lot of injuries. Also, one of my trademarks is that when I wear longsleeves, I scrunch them up to my elbow. It's kind of a weird thing but it's more natural for me. So it was nice and normal to roll up my sleeve nonchalantly and have people say "Ooh, what happened to your arm?" or "Your arm is bleeding!"
And that's when I'd brush it off and say it's nothing and recount the tragic story of how I fell down the stairs.
*narcissism*
I also found comfort during lunch, when I basically just sat down and didn't eat lunch. I talked to my friends and laughed and I really love it how this year, my friends are made and I'm not having any major issues anymore. This is something I discussed with my best friend, Georgie, on our really late night. Anyway, it was nice today that everybody was sitting next to me on purpose and Vanessa even sat in my lap. Even though that was kind of awkward since I was sitting cross-legged originally and eventually I had to ask her to move 'cause my ankles were pressing into the ground.
Such is life. You can't be too comfortable, or you'd never want to move ahead.
"I'm walking to French class. Dang it, I have to go to French class and I don't really want to because there are a bunch of high schoolers who I sit around and don't have the nerve to move away from and the one who sits behind me and is my partner in all those activities from the French book swears a lot and I'm really hungry and it's before lunch and whoa there goes another girl in bright colored skinny jeans."
And then, say, somebody would come up to me and say something like "You know, I really don't want to go to French," and I'd think "Yeah me too," but I'd already be in the rut of people with bright colored skinny jeans. None of which I own, of course, but this is a world where girls like me usually don't get desired clothing. Like boots. My mom won't get me boots, which bugs me 'cause she went boot shopping for my older sister, who has the wrongest taste in boots and it's not even funny. But that's okay, I guess.
See, this is the kind of thought train I usually get into, and it's not exactly comfortable dragging myself out of all the deep thoughts I have and everything seems shallow if I do. And yeah, sometimes thinking about bright colored skinny jeans is deep thoughts.
Another example of awkwardness is like what this post is right now, where I'm sitting here thinking Okay, in the next paragraph I will subtly slide into the topic of finding comfort just like the title says and you're thinking I thought this was about finding comfort or Bye.
Then that's where you're drawn back to the real world and you realize that you can still be comfortable with your deep thoughts and awkward non-bright-colored non-skinny-thank-goodness jeans. Especially if you're a guy. The only guy who can pull off wearing bright-colored probably-non-skinny-but-you-can't-tell-anyways-jeans is Liberty, who also happens to be my only vegetarian friend. That I know of, of course, 'cause couch potatoes count as vegetarian.
Today happens to be one of my uncomfortable days, which is one of those ones where you have secrets that worry you that you can't tell anybody and so you have to keep it to yourself. Keeping things to yourself isn't very good for you. Maybe that's why I do it so much, but then again, there are some things you should keep to yourself that I don't, 'cause I'm so full of words and stories I LOVE to share them. Again and again. I also like rambling, but you know that.
However, I managed to find some points of comfort. Such as showing off the scrape on my elbow that I got from slipping down the stairs. I love showing off injuries just about as much as I love to share stories. And I get a lot of injuries. Also, one of my trademarks is that when I wear longsleeves, I scrunch them up to my elbow. It's kind of a weird thing but it's more natural for me. So it was nice and normal to roll up my sleeve nonchalantly and have people say "Ooh, what happened to your arm?" or "Your arm is bleeding!"
And that's when I'd brush it off and say it's nothing and recount the tragic story of how I fell down the stairs.
*narcissism*
I also found comfort during lunch, when I basically just sat down and didn't eat lunch. I talked to my friends and laughed and I really love it how this year, my friends are made and I'm not having any major issues anymore. This is something I discussed with my best friend, Georgie, on our really late night. Anyway, it was nice today that everybody was sitting next to me on purpose and Vanessa even sat in my lap. Even though that was kind of awkward since I was sitting cross-legged originally and eventually I had to ask her to move 'cause my ankles were pressing into the ground.
Such is life. You can't be too comfortable, or you'd never want to move ahead.
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