Random Life Stories and Unpredictable Moments

I reside in a residential block where a recent rule mandates that after 8pm, residents must use their front door keys to access the building. Before anyone moves in, they're forewarned about this security measure. Nevertheless, a new neighbor who moved into the apartment below has a habit of leaving the back door unlocked for her convenience. Despite repeated reminders to carry her keys to avoid being locked out, she continues to disregard this advice.

Recently, this neighbor has begun to treat me as if I'm on staff at a hotel, pounding on my windows and persistently ringing my intercom to let her in when she forgets her key. This disruption is nightly, usually happens post-9pm, and it always agitates my dog. Initially, I obliged and opened the door for her twice out of courtesy, but after the third incident, I made it clear that she needed to remember her keys, as I wouldn't be assisting her moving forward.

Just tonight, she went out with her dog and—predictably—left her key behind. When she returned and found herself locked out, she resorted to her usual tactics of banging and buzzing. This time, I decided to turn off my buzzer, gave my dog a treat, closed my doors, and went back to my movie, determining to ignore her entirely.

Here's the potential issue: it's rather late, and it's dark outside. She's been sitting on the front steps for around 45 minutes, using her phone and loudly complaining about my refusal to help her to anyone who will listen. Admittedly, I live in a part of town that's a bit rough around the edges. It’s not dangerous per se, but certainly not the best area to linger outside during late hours. Despite that, am I wrong to think she should take some responsibility?

If this ordeal were part of a reality show, I imagine the audience would be split. Some might rally behind me for promoting self-reliance and security protocols, while others might critique me for lacking empathy, especially under potentially unsafe conditions. The drama would undoubtedly be played up, and each knock and shout would likely gain a dramatic soundtrack to heighten the tension further.

I'm genuinely interested to see what others would advise in this predicament. If anything, it feels like I’m forced into a role that I didn't sign up for. Am I overreacting by feeling this way, or is her behavior as unreasonable as it seems?

I never thought I would be the kind of person to even ask myself a question like this. When I got engaged to my fiancé three years ago, I was certain. Certain that he was the right choice, that we would build a life together, that the past was just that—the past. But lately, I find myself thinking about my ex more than I want to admit. It’s not that I don’t love my fiancé. I do. He’s kind, he’s supportive, he makes me laugh even when I’m stressed out of my mind. But no matter how hard I try, there’s still this small, stubborn part of my heart that belongs to someone else. And I don't know what that says about me.

Sometimes it hits me out of nowhere. Like when a song we used to listen to together comes on the radio. Or when I pass a certain coffee shop where we spent hours just talking about everything and nothing. And then all the memories come flooding back—the good ones, the ones that make my chest ache in that bittersweet way. I start wondering if he ever thinks about me too, if he ever misses those stupid inside jokes we had or the way we used to plan our future like it was some big adventure. It's confusing, because I don’t want to go back to that relationship. It ended for good reasons. We fought too much, we wanted different things, and in the end we hurt each other more than we helped. Still, part of me misses what we were before it all fell apart.

I’ve tried to tell myself that it’s normal. That maybe everyone who’s been in love before feels this way sometimes. That just because you move on doesn’t mean you erase the love you had. But deep down, it makes me feel guilty. Like I’m betraying my fiancé without even doing anything. He deserves all of me, not a part of me that’s stuck looking backward. And the worst part is, he’s done absolutely nothing wrong. He’s patient with me, he’s honest, he loves me in a way that feels safe and steady. Maybe that’s part of the problem. My relationship with my ex was never steady—it was chaotic and passionate and sometimes toxic. But it made me feel alive in a way that calm love doesn’t always manage. And I hate that part of me still craves that mess sometimes.

There are nights when I lie awake next to my fiancé and wonder if I’m making a mistake. If maybe the reason I cant let go of my ex is because some part of me believes he was “the one” and I just let him go because it got too hard. But then I remember all the pain, all the crying, all the days I felt like I was losing myself just trying to keep him. Loving him wasn’t healthy, even if it was intense. And isn't love supposed to be more than just fire? Isn’t it supposed to be peace too? I know that rationally, but my heart... my heart still hasn’t fully caught up sometimes.

Sometimes I wonder if it's just nostalgia lying to me. Making me remember only the good parts and forget all the nights I cried myself to sleep wondering why I wasn’t enough for him. Nostalgia is a liar like that, painting the past prettier than it really was. I try to remind myself of the facts, the way he would leave me hanging for days, the way he made promises he never kept. But emotions aren't logical, and memories are trickyy. No matter how many times I tell myself I’m better off now, there’s still that ache when I think of what could’ve been, what we almost had.

I haven’t talked to my ex in a long time. Part of me wants to reach out just to see if he’s okay, but I know that’s a bad idea. I know that opening that door would only bring more confusion and hurt. So I keep my distance, for my sake and for my fiancé's. He doesn’t deserve half my heart. He deserves all of it. And maybe loving someone doesn’t always mean you’re supposed to be with them. Maybe sometimes love stays even when the person doesn’t. I guess that’s the lesson I’m still learning.

So yeah, maybe it is normal to still love your ex a little. Maybe it’s just part of being human. Love doesn’t have an off switch. But the important thing is what you do with those feelings. I choose to honor my past without letting it control my future. I choose to stay, to grow, to love the man who’s standing in front of me, not the memory of the one who left. And maybe one day, that stubborn ache will fade into something softer, something that doesn't hurt so much. Until then, I’ll keep moving forward, even when my heart sometimes wants to look back.

I’m 27 years old

I wish I could feel love again

The feeling of love is so beautiful

But sadly I no longer feel anything for anyone

I need to live a legendary love story that brings back my passion for life

What should I do

Especially that I don’t go out much

I feel ive searching for so long but I can’t find stuff that related to what I’m doing. So I want to create a series, specifically one that each episode will be about 5-7mins long. So how that change stuff? What should I learn? Btw I mean a serialised one, I already have some plots and characters moments in my head. But I can’t find anythingggg. Someone please help.

Also some specific questions-

Is it a bad when stuff happen to a characters than characters making stuff happen? Like does it demnish the plot?

How does a comic series (issues) differ from a tv series (episodes)?

hey y'all! I'm signing off for the summer! (we have to turn in our computers) so I will see you guys later!!!!!!! cant wait to tell more crazy stories!

Recently, my cousin organized a quaint baby shower at our neighborhood park. Unfortunately, the turnout wasn't exactly what we hoped for, probably because of the biting cold, but we all managed to have a pretty decent time—well, almost all of us.

As the baby shower was winding down, a familiar figure from around the area, an old homeless man known as Marvin, strolled by. Marvin is a kind-hearted soul, well-known for tidying up our community by gathering litter and collecting cans and bottles to recycle. He's really one of those silent heroes no one talks much about. When Marvin hesitantly asked if we had a spare sandwich, seeing the genuine need in his eyes, I felt compelled to help out.

Looking over the leftovers—a surplus of food that I knew wouldn't be touched again—I quickly put together a modest meal for him: a sandwich, some chips, and a few grapes. Marvin, visibly moved, took the plate with shaky hands and muttered a heartfelt thank you before continuing on his way.

However, not everyone seemed to share my perspective. My cousin, along with her sister, aunt, uncle, and some relatives from her husband's side, were quick to criticize my actions. They argued that my generosity was inappropriate since Marvin wasn’t an invited guest. They labeled him dismissively as a ‘bum’ and expressed their displeasure towards me for giving away food that I hadn't personally paid for, despite the clear waste it would otherwise become. They felt my actions were inconsiderate and disrespectful to the occasion.

It makes me wonder, if this moment were captured in a reality show, how would the audience react to it? Would they see my actions as a simple act of humanity or agree with my family’s viewpoint? Reality shows often highlight such drama and moral dilemmas, which can polarize audiences.

Anyway, what do you think? Did I step out of line by feeding Marvin?

Damn, commiting really sounds good right now that it scares the shit out of me. I am really tired of always being everyone’s punching bags. I’m just a kid too. Someone who longs for a complete and happy family. I’m just 14 years old but I already wanna end my life. Why do I have to carry it all? What about me? Just because I don’t show my emotions doesn’t mean I’m strong. Everyone thinks that I am okay, but I am not. I’m so fucking tired. My Mom can’t have a dead daughter. I still wanna see My Mom and my baby brother. But my mind is killing me. I hope I can speak my thoughts without feeling like a burden or people will judge me for who I am. I always tell people to be strong and to live happily, but I can’t even do that. When people do me wrong, I always say maybe they’re going through something. But when I am going through something, I never treat people wrong like that haha. It genuinely hurts that I am even thinking of doing it. ’Cause what do you mean a young girl like me already wants to end it? I am still trying but I don’t know how long. I don’t want people thinking that they weren’t there for me, especially my Mom. I’m not living for myself anymore, because if I was living for myself? I would have been dead by now. I wanna scream. I wanna cry. I just hope one day I will be okay. My mind is screaming negative thoughts and I don’t know how long I can hold on. I’m very much tired, I wish for this pain to end.

So, I just had the most confusing argument with my boyfriend, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. Out of nowhere, he tells me I’m "too clingy." Clingy?? What does that even mean in a relationship? I honestly don’t get it. We’ve been together for a while now, and I thought being close was a good thing. Isn’t that what being in love is about? Spending time together, sharing our lives, and, you know, actually being there for each other?

Look, I’ll admit I do like to know where he is, what he’s up to, and I text him a lot during the day. But isn’t that just because I care? We both work, and I miss him during the day, so a quick message here and there seems normal to me. I didn’t think it was something that would be seen as "clingy." He even said he loves how I’m always there for him, so now I’m just confused. How can it be both a good and a bad thing?

And, honestly, it's not like I’m following him everywhere or stopping him from hanging out with friends. I just want to be part of his life, and I thought that’s what he wanted too. So now I'm sitting here thinking, what is the actual meaning of clingy in a relationship? Does it mean I’m supposed to back off? Give him space? But then, where’s the line between showing love and being too much?

I guess I’m just frustrated because this word came out of nowhere, and I don’t know how to fix it without feeling like I’m not being myself. Has anyone else dealt with this? What’s the clingy meaning in relationships supposed to mean anyway? Am I overreacting here?

Always being perceived as something I'm not, and it hurts because it comes from my family : <

Moomy, sorry if I swear in some of these and please promise not to get angry because I haven’t told anyone this and I feel like crap anyways

I couldn't finish 3 of my exams. I couldn't the last 2 questions of biology, I couldn't finish 1 section in Hindi, and I couldn't finish half the paper in maths. I will fail even all the subjects. Maybe I didn't study enough for all of them. I'm a failure to everyone. I'm a failure in life. I don't have friends, I studied but I didn't have practice, I'm apparently rude to everyone and everything, I can't even draw like my beloved artists, I can't do art in the future because you'll replace me, and I won't pass school next year. It may be the second term and I have one more, but it's not enough. I'm not enough. I've never been. The list should've helped me because I would've been a great human, not the defective fetus my parents were given. That's all I am. Failure. Always will be, unless I figure out a way to just stop. Stop harming others with this mess, because my existence of failing alone is bad.

Nobody wants a failure, nobody wants to fail. Because look where failure got others. People failed to check the reactor core of Chernobyl, many people of Ukraine and other countries died. Someone scored very low in school, he was held back a year and continues like that, even though he's happy now. Someone failed a driving test, so they never drive again because they probably ran over someone. Someone failed an exam, and their parents beat the hell out of them or they get horrible treatment. Someone out there failed to get his family any food in a poor village and they die. Someone who was a topper in 8th became a failure in 12th and never ever got accepted to any college EVER. See? Failure hurts and it destroys. It’s like a cancer, a mutation which occurs when a DNA code fails. Failure’s a prion, a cancer, a mutation. I hate it when books tell kids in school, failure should help you learn. It helped me learn to not fail and resent it. My parents may have been fine, but I don't care. I'm a failure, and I should leave the house because I said so. Dad's right when he says lots of Indian families hate failure, I should too. He's not right when he says it's not good. Stop lying, dad!

Look where it f—king got me. I feel like I failed in everything. How am I gonna make it in this world? I won't. If I fail in one more thing, I'm a useless child. I hate it when they say you can learn and do better from failure. I hate it when dad says not to fear failure. Look where failure got others in the real world! Death! Destruction! Famine! Held back a year! Loss of friends! Abuse! More death! This will happen to me. It will. Didn't failure hurt them?

That's why I'm a problem. I may have been born by loving parents, but right now I feel like they secretly hate me, even though they seem fine. I burnt everything I touched, maybe this fail is it. I failed at maintaining 1 friend, at succeeding exams, at being nice and humorous, at being smart, at looking good and being in the trend, many things. I'm pathetic. I'm the worst thing ever to happen. Why even though I studied I couldn't finish the paper? I'm too slow like a snail, that is! I’m fat, ogre-like and as ugly as someone’s hairy armpits. I hate it when my mom said not to think on her behalf. Making predictions is what we do. Stock workers do it to predict the market trends. Even if she scored 5th topper IN SCHOOL, why is she telling me she also failed? It's a lie! Farce! Fake! Farzi! She's lying that she failed. She's not showing love, it's a story she cooked out of her mother-head to comfort her child. If I hate myself, I'll get better. I'm a worthless, useless, piece of sh-t, v—na candle smelling, stupid, pig-like, hairy, baboon-ish creature who deserves to not live for all her f—king failures. If I hate myself, I'll get better. Isn't it how it works? I admit my failure, I remind myself of them again and again, and I'll improve. It’s what I’ve been told by someone I don’t remember a long time ago.

My high was a waste. My high of feeling better and more confident was an utter waste pulled out my a-s that I really regret because I feel so stupid. Don’t try to convince me failure is good for me. Failure is bad for everyone. Remember my examples? They’re true! I feel more useless than ever. Like my high of positivity and small confidence was wasted. What do you mean I should think more positive, if this is the sandpit it got me to? I hate it when people say it. I’m sorry, but I also hate the fact even my own family hates cynicism and honesty, even though dad embodies both. Hatred of oneself happens when that person understands they are nothing more than their flaws. I’m nothing more than a stupid, short, fat, hairy, ugly, brace-faced, curly-haired, unskilled, lazy, abusive sister, daughter, girl and even human being. Being “positive” is stupid. Look where hoping got me. I didn’t f-cking finish the goddamn paper. My hope that I will finish was a farce and a fart. Listen here, stupid sheeple. POSITIVITY GETS YOU NOWHERE. Say it louder for the people at the back! Don’t tell me to care for myself and look at things to make me happy. Don’t tell me to “LIST PAST ACCOMPLISHMENTS AS WELL AS THINGS

YOU’RE LOOKING FORWARD TO.” “LOOK AT POSITIVE IMAGES AND THINK POSITIVE THOUGHTS TO CHANGE YOUR MOOD.” or even the stupidest, dumbest and most STINKIEST one, “WRITE DOWN NEGATIVE THOUGHTS AND THEN RIP THEM UP OR THROW THEM AWAY.” How the actual hell does ripping up your negative make you better? IT DOESN’T MAKE ANYONE FEEL BETTER, FAKE SCIENTIST! I’M A PRODIGY, A TINFOIL-WEARER IN THE MATRIX OF FOOLS! DON’T SAY SUCH STUPIDITY, YOU HAGS, SLOTHS, MORONS, HAIR-EATERS!

Dad now thinks I’m a lying, dramatic, piece-of-sh-t daughter who’s only doing this to piss him off. Wow, great observation father! I just love how smart you are! I’m not upset, I’m aroused! I AM a psychopathic, cringe daughter! I am the Belle Gibson wannabe who successfully fooled the goddamn world into thinking she’s got cancer, when bloody lady’s got everything fine and set out for her! I’m a girl who’s farting out problems, and using my tongue! Ever considered cutting it off and removing my teeth? B-TCH?! WANNA F-CKING HURT ME? GO AHEAD. Not that you care if whatever I’m going through now is real or fake, I’m Belle Gibson, Moriarty, Kokichi, all chronic liars! I’M A LIE! And lies deserve to be killed and obliterated by God! IS GOD EVEN REAL? I don’t care, go ahead! Send me away to a sh-t Indian school where nobody cares and they all beat and probably r-pe me, because guess what, I’m toughening up! I’m having the ass of a monkey, callouses as hard a stone!! I’M THE LIAR I’M THE LIAR I’M THE LIAR GOD IS REAL I DESERVE TO BE PUNISHED I’M A LIAR I DESERVE TO NOT HAVE LOVE I’M A LIAR AND I SHOULD BE JAILED AND TORTURED AND R-PED AND KILLED AND SLAUGHTERED AND EATEN!!

So don’t even begin to think about how I can improve, because I can never, ever, ever succeed next unit, or ever, in life for ANYTHING. Plain and simple, 1 + 1 = 2.

All weekend long I was playing with my cousin's little ones. Their energy kind of energized me and I actually feel ready to face the world today. Playing with the kids, who are 2 and 4, let me be a little kid again and that felt great. They left to go back home this morning, but those little nuggets will always be in my heart <3. I'm not gonna let others get me down today, I'm actually in a really good mood. The depression that clouded my mind for so long is thinning out, and the sun in showing through the clouds. I think I'll be alright.

I recently purchased a semi-detached home and it's turning out to be a massive project. Everything needs an overhaul, right down to the framework.

My neighbors keep to themselves; there’s a father and a daughter who has special needs, and there are mumblings of a son and a mother, though I've never laid eyes on her.

We've just begun remodeling the bathroom, which unfortunately adjoins the daughter's bedroom.

This bathroom is a disaster - we have to demolish and replace everything, including the plumbing and light fixtures. It’s a huge job.

We began demolition four days ago, and immediately, the noise triggered the daughter’s loud, piercing screams. Despite the clamor of our equipment and our own ear protection, her distress was unmistakable.

The next day, her father came over, rather upset, explaining that his daughter is autistic and particularly sensitive to disturbances. He mentioned that our drilling had shaken loose some of her possessions, causing breakage. I apologized, and he walked away somewhat relieved.

However, that evening he returned, furious after work, and berated me and my brother Jake, who’s helping me out with the renovations. He shouted about our lack of consideration and stormed off.

Yesterday, he appeared again, visibly angry, accusing us of being ruthless for continuing the work despite his daughter’s evident turmoil. I saw his daughter looking quite shaken, which made me feel sorry, but I explained we needed to press on with the work.

Today, he demanded we halt our noisy work as his daughter was struggling to recover from her ongoing distress. He looked completely worn out.

I apologized once more but told him that it's his responsibility as a father to manage his daughter’s reactions, and that our renovation schedule couldn't accommodate their situation indefinitely.

He left angrily, and since then, my pregnant wife has been ignoring me, labeling me insensitive and harsh. She insists that if it were our child, we’d expect understanding from others.

I acknowledge the father’s frustration, but my brother and I need to finish this job promptly, and it's just not feasible to stop now.

My wife is still upset, and I’m now sleeping on the sofa. The neighbors are clearly unhappy with us too.

Suppose I was on a reality TV show with cameras capturing these confrontations and my family's reactions. Audiences would probably be split. Some might sympathize with the need to progress work on the house, while others could view me as the villain for not being more accommodating towards a child with special needs.

Am I the bad guy here?

I'm wondering, if you were to put this situation to a public vote, what would people say?

I’m so sorry you had to have me. I’m sorry I’m not any better. If I could walk out a door and it would mean that your life would be free of me, I would do it. I’m sorry I’m such a lazy kid. I can’t help it, mommy. Your daughter is so so tired. I’m pretty sure I have depression, but I can never get diagnosed. I’m sorry mommy. I’m such a rebel. I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’m sorry for being a burden. I’m sorry I never follow what you say. Sorry for staring at you in a mean way. Sorry for ever being born and ruining your teenage years. You never deserved that. You deserve your freedom. Now, I’m sorry if one day I ever decide that I want to go and disappear for forever. I don’t see a future for myself, mommy. It’ll just be my siblings with you along the way, and if you ever cry on the day that I die, I’m sorry for breaking your heart.

Lately, I’ve been going to work with a knot in my stomach, and I can’t really explain why. It’s not the tasks—I’m actually pretty good at what I do. I meet my deadlines, I show up on time, I don’t slack off. But there’s this weird vibe around me, like a silent wall I can’t break through. People don’t smile when I say good morning. My suggestions in meetings are either ignored or shot down like they’re stupid. I’ll say something, and no one reacts—then someone else says almost the same thing, and suddenly everyone’s nodding like it’s genius. I’ve tried to brush it off, telling myself maybe they’re just busy or having a bad day. But it’s been months. And now I’m starting to wonder… why do people hate me for no reason? Because that’s how it feels. Like I walk into the room and immediately get side-eyed or dismissed, and I honestly don’t know what I did wrong.

I’ve replayed everything in my head a million times. I’m not rude, I don’t gossip, I mind my own business. I even bring snacks sometimes just to lighten the mood. I try to make small talk when it's appropriate, ask people about their weekends, compliment someone’s outfit. But the responses are always short, cold, like they’re trying to get rid of me. And then I see them laughing together, making lunch plans, having these inside jokes I’m never a part of. It’s not that I want to be everyone’s best friend, but it’d be nice to feel like I’m not the unwanted one in the office. Like I actually belong there. Sometimes I wonder if I give off some kind of energy I’m not aware of. Do I look too serious? Too quiet? Too something? It messes with your head after a while. You start doubting yourself, even when logically, you know you haven’t done anything to deserve being left out.

The worst is when I actually do speak up about it, or hint at how I feel, and people act like I’m being dramatic. “Oh no one hates you,” they say. “You’re overthinking it.” But they don’t see what I see. They’re not the ones being left out of group chats or ignored in conversations. They don’t feel the tension when they walk into the breakroom. They don’t catch the glances, the whispering that suddenly stops when I get too close. It’s a silent kind of exclusion, the kind you can’t really prove, but you feel it in your chest every single day. And the more people deny it, the more isolated I feel. Because then it’s not just them pushing me away—it’s also me being made to feel crazy for noticing it at all.

I’ve considered quitting more times than I can count. But then I ask myself: am I gonna run away from every place that treats me like this? Or should I just grow thicker skin and push through it? That’s what people always say, right? “Don’t take it personal,” “just focus on your work,” “they’re probably jealous.” But saying that doesn’t take the pain away. It doesn’t make the loneliness easier. It doesn’t make me feel any less like the outsider. I want to believe that things will change, that maybe one person will reach out, invite me in, make me feel like I matter. But that hasn’t happened yet. And I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of wondering if I did something wrong when I’ve bent over backwards trying to be kind, respectful, and professional.

So yeah, I don’t know why people hate me for no reason. Maybe there is a reason and they’re just too immature to say it to my face. Or maybe it’s all in their heads, their projections, their issues. Whatever it is, I’m slowly learning that I can’t let their coldness define how I see myself. I’m still showing up, still doing the best I can, even if no one claps for me when I succeed. And maybe that’s enough for now. Maybe one day I’ll find a workplace where I don’t feel like a ghost. But until then, I’m holding on. Trying to believe I’m not as unlikable as they make me feel. Because deep down, I know I deserve better. Even if they never see it.

Hi, I don't know where to start but with this: My English and grammar sucks, please do not judge, just listen. I have been diagnosed with depression (MDD) and anxiety (GAD) just to give you a heads up.

My life is a total mess, from school, friends, and my own free time. I'm a whole mess. For about 3 weeks now, everyone who interacts with me (friends and family, too) I get super mad at. They don't even do anything, but everything about their presense makes me mad. When they talk to me (or attempt too), touch me (hugs, etc), or contact me. I just want to yell at them to go away, but it's hard in school and at home. I can't just pause and tell them to go away for the next 2 weeks until everything feels normal again. I love my friends and family but I can't deal with them at the moment and I don't know why. I feel 1 emotion: irritation. 24/7, all day, every day. I can't escape it. I want to be able to talk to people without feeling like I'm going to explode with anger. It's not fun, and before anyone says "selfish", I still listen or talk to them even when I really can't. I suck it up. Doesn't help though.

Another thing, I think people think I'm rude. I have bad humour, that's how I grew up. I grew up around bad jokes and I just grew onto them. My humour isn't like outrageously rude, I have morals, and you can tell when I'm joking. But people complain about it, or stare at me after I jokingly respond to something they say. They never mention anything though, they never tell me what I did wrong. So I keep doing it until someone has a "serious talk" about it with me saying that "this person" doesn't like the jokes I'm making and they feel sensitive to them. I don't understand why it takes people so long to say something, I'm not a rude person. I can understand if you don't want me to do something. But thats how I'm portrayed, as a rude/mean person who only cares about herself. But that's not even close to true. They don't know who I am or what my story is. I grew up ignoring my emotions and putting others first for the first 15 years of my life (Yes, when I was younger too). I finally started to listen to myself but I'm put into the box of "selfish". All I am doing is putting me first and listening to myself. My safety and wellbeing is my number one priority from now on since it got destroyed over the past years. People hate on me in secrecy and I can see it. They whisper or comment. I'm not a stereotypical "weird kid", I'm more on the popular side if anything. But every group says something, but they don't know me. I'm honestly so sweet. I suck it up for my friends. Literally every new friend I make, they say "I kinda thought you were rude but you're actually really sweet."

I'm just so done with everyone and their assumptions they make about me. There's so many assumptions. Why are we assuming peoples stories? You don't know what I've been through.