The ABCs of Self Discovery
- Reads 463
- Votes 4
- Parts 10
Ongoing12m
Last published Wed, Oct 2, 2013
Are you miserably lost and don't know who you are? Then you've failed. Read this and stop being such a failure. Don't worry, I'm sure even with your literacy level, even you can understand this. If you're not offended by the end, I have failed. Then again, I'm certain that a simpleton like you can pick up on the sarcasm dripping from every letter.
Here's another satire making fun of society today, in reader friendly ABC form.
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#968
self
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𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇{mlm}
𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑑 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔? Right.Complete
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Life as a child was amazing. Your weight didn't matter. Your clothes didn't matter. Your parents money didn't matter. All that mattered was who you were going to play with, but that's all gone now. My sister hates me, my mom has no time for me, and my dad, well he left me. My life has been one whirlwind after another. Except I'm content with it, till it all comes crashing down. Every television, billboard, and magazine is covered with models. Models that are supposed to be role models, for us. Perfect face, perfect body, perfect life. I have none of those things. All my life I've never cared that I was over weight, and didn't wear makeup. Who knew a boy could change all of that? That's when I decided to starve myself, force myself to look like the girls in the magazines. Who knew all I was doing was slowly killing myself? Life likes to play games, except my game is called Ana and I don't think I will survive. (unedited) Cover by: MadHatter_25Complete
Hello. I’m Cassidy. I’m 16 years old, and I am helpless. I’m weak, defenseless and not to mention unassuming. I am utterly boring and uninteresting. I wouldn’t be surprised if God himself overlooked me. Maybe that’s why my life sucks so much. My face is dull and pale, and my hair is mousy brown. My eyes are black and my fingers are long and stringy. Once in junior high, a teacher likened me to ghost. I had wanted to tell her, “Yes. I remind myself of a ghost sometimes too.” But I didn’t say anything in return. I have one friend and even she doesn’t like me for me; only for the shiny new car my step dad bought me. Boys don’t notice me. And when they do it’s only to pick out my flaws and display them to everyone around. All in all, I am a sad and pathetic specimen of a human being. Why am I writing this? Because on June 3rd, 2011, at 12:31 am, I died.
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