I am completely socially inept. I have similar characteristics as a horse attempting to integrate with a colony of ninja monkeys from Spain. My name is something I don't care about. It's difficult to remember for new people and it is always misspelt on things but I'm too anxious to fix the mistake made by others on membership cards and such.A few days after being shot down by the girl I liked, two of my female friends decided to head to the city on the train and kindly invited me with them.I had several questions. Many of them revolving around why anyone would invite me anywhere because all I do is sit with earphones in and listen to music loud enough to deafen me in a few years. (Hopefully)Trains, buses, any form of public transport or transport in general cripples me. The thought of going to a different place with different people on a different mode of transportation freaks me the hell out. I only managed to survive the uneventful trip that cost a whole $5 one way (Thanks Queensland Rail... cunts) was to once more deafen myself with music and jot down random stuff in my book that I always carry with me since being hospitalised. Once we arrived at the city train station, we departed and began to stroll through the city.First stop, book store. My love for books could not be overshadowed by a single thing, except for a nuclear explosion, but even that overshadowed Japan... twice. The shop had a tonne of books, as was to be expected. I instantly grabbed a paperback copy of Dune, a classic. I would however put it back down upon seeing the price. I did a much similar thing when I saw a lovely looking copy of George Orwell's Animal Farm.I ended up settling on a Star Wars Galactic Atlas as those movies single handedly formed my childhood. The lady who served me at the counter was extremely nice and looked very beautiful. Her name however seems to escape my mind even though she had a name-tag on at the time, as her face was the centre of my attention at the time.The next stop was food. Uneventful and too salty to be edible.After lunch was consumed I requested to see a tobacconist as owning a cigar has been on my to do list for a while. When I finally do kill myself, I don't want too many regrets. Once a cigar was procured by yours truly, we departed the city the same way we arrived, train. I coped the same way back as I did before.This was a day in my life. It was boring and I left out the parts about having voices in my head scream at me all the time
