Life is a history on repeat. Everybody has the same life as one person once did. Everybody but me.
And no I'm not some psychedelic hippie who thinks that God is the answer to everything if one smokes enough weed.
No, I'm just me, alone most days, and depressed the rest of the time.
I can't relate to anyone, not like I've taken the time to tell anyone my story, but still, no one has the same issues.
Sure, people have maybe one or two of my issues but no one has all of them combined, not even counting my current situation, as I walk into a new school and put my hood up as I walk past people I don't know.
YOU ARE READING
Bad Boys, Bad Girls
Teen Fiction"What are you looking at?" I said as I took a drag from my joint. "Someone who really makes me happy and I dont know know why." He said with the sexiest goofy grin I've ever seen. He then pulled out a joint and started walking with me.
