Um... hello?

I've realized that I write this kind of like a letter, which honestly I don't hate. Also the concept behind this whole thing seems terribly romantic when you look at it like this, I mean, come on, writing letters anonymously to people you don't know, even if you can't see them, straight out of some tragic romance novel.

Or maybe I'm giving myself too much credit. You know what, yeah probably.

Regardless, good morning, or evening, or night, or whenever you see this. For me it's about noon as I begin typing this out. I'm only a high schooler, remember this, so don't get too mad trying to decipher my god-awful grammar.

I had to get a vaccine the other day. That's not the issue. The issue is that I still haven't gotten better when I got the vaccine like three days ago! That's not the full extent of it though. After I got my vaccine, I decided that I was going to be fine, so I decided I would go for the first sleepover I have ever been on in 16 years of living at someone else's house. The thing is, I was just kind of tagging along with my sister, because the family whose house we were at had two daughter also about our age. I don't think their older daughter, who actually goes to the same school as I do by the way, wanted me there, because she was all too happy to avoid talking to me whenever possible.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

I think at this point I should be used to having people not really like me. I've mentioned already that I'm not particularly attractive. I guess my face doesn't have that mysterious harmony that other people's faces do. I'm also not very fit. I don't hate my body, how could I? I think my thoughts on my body are kind of like that of society's. Sometimes, I hate that I'm not built enough to wear body-con dresses without tires of fat spilling out, but then other times I like that my body has curves, that my thighs are squishy. I'm just a teenager realizing sexuality, realizing that their figure will never be good enough for proper society, but it's more than enough for freaky magazines.

That's honestly kind of depressing.

Anyways, the real problem with me, and something I'm definitely not going to do anything to fix: my personality. Evidently, as is gathered by my barely two chapter work of writing, I'm a bit unhinged. My mind seems like some kind of deranged circus tent. I'm a horrible person, complete with all the vices of humanity, but I always feel the need to present myself as something better. Most of the time it happens subconsciously, I don't mean to be some kind of saint, because frankly I'm more likely to be an apostle of some demonic deity than a god.

God is also a bit of a subject. I don't know if I should get into that.

I'm really bad at writing things in a way that makes sense.

Well, um... as the title said, I think I'm coming down with a cold or something. I'm currently chugging water to stop my throat from feeling worse.

I lied. I had one glass so far and it's almost noon.

I'm going to get some more water.