it plays tricks with the eye

So I guess that shouldn’t have been a surprise. Many things shouldn’t be, and are, and that was the most that. But my room has these paper cranes in it and they’re making me cry now. It shows how little I’ve grown up, I guess, because this is the exact emotion I felt when I was eight and the other girls tried to poison me (okay I now know that mashed berries mixed up with spit do not necessarily make you die, but at the time I was convinced that such things would cause immediately cessation of existence) and I accidently shoved away the only one there who was actually my friend. She fell over backwards and hurt herself, I don’t know. She would never speak to me again, even when the teachers tried to make us. It was kind of silly I guess because I hadn’t meant to hurt her, I’d just been kicking out at the posh little girls who were trying to force this gungy crimson spitty mess down my throat. And she cut me off when I tried to apologise.

Strange thing is, she was much better off for not being my friend – everyone accepted her into the group of lets hate me and thus I ended up with fewer friends, which was unfortunate as the remaining ones were all short and jumpy and it resulted in me getting black eyes from short friends leaping into me. I was a sad lonely ugly little thing.

Rather a lot of me is sitting here staring at this and going you are so pathetic, stop feeling sorry for yourself, she’s utterly right but it was your decision. And the rest of me is sobbing and wondering why I always get things wrong. And there’s a small hard chunk in the middle with its hands over its ears going ‘lalala’.

There are birds and bats outside my window and they are all moving too fast and looking kind of confused to all be awake at the same time.

Shy, by Ani Difranco: ‘taste the pillow with my grin’.