Sharing Our Innermost Thoughts

On my first day of Junior year in High School, I became a class-clown for people to put a figurative quarter in the the form of a setup, and me to expel a figurative candy in the form of a punchline.

I missed the bus for my trade school, which is a fantastic way to show the school that I care. Today began alright, but as the realities of my shallow and meaninglessness to the entire school set in, I truly realized I mean little to nothing to anyone. I am a therapist to my girlfriend and little more, even if she believes I am. I am either sex or a deposit for every dramatic thing that happens. I’m afraid to leave her out of fear for her mental and physical health, as well as being accused of sexual assault, which is something that happened with my last girlfriend, and only recently became debunked as completely and utterly untrue accusation. I can’t drive, I don’t have a job, my parents don’t even care enough to remember to help me refill my medicine. The harsh reality of this brutal existence sets in as I remember I have no clue what is going on, and literally every single other person knows.