

savant.being the world's smartest isn't what it's chalked up to be. the only thing i can ever do anymore is meditate, or at least try to. my own little world is the only place i have to myself. every time i sit down, christy walks in. oh, christy; a dumb blonde tumor that i have to call my publicist. i never knew i needed a fucking publicist, and i'm the smartest person in the world. she'll ask if i'm busy, to which i respond with the same look that basically says "get the fuck away from me". i'll shoo her away, and attempt to recollect concentration, but it never works. i just want to think, but the doctors say that too much personal time could maksavant.


composition part two.i miss how you used to tell me, "make me smile like this." it wasn't a game. it may have been to you. i hate being a pawn.composition part two.


compostition is for composing.i am an epitome. i need no reason. i need no following. i need no definition. i am fear. i am joy. i am a writing cliche. i am lost. i am found. i am a walking alliteration of a popular song. i am everything. i am nothing. i am a riddle. i am a solution. i am the loose lips that sink ships. i am the neverending struggle for meaning. i am the future.compostition is for composing.


unsentunsentunsent
girl,
i'm not going to lie. you caught my attention pretty bad. i just knew that nothing could or would happen, but people had to give me fucking hope. hope is a fucking crutch. it's only good for good parking spots. you're cute, nice, funny, and have a great taste in music. i just don't get what makes you and i so different. is it the way we act in public? is it the fact that i'm the new kid? we have all too much in common to not be friends. i hate it. you'll probably never read this
easy mistake
--
We didn't give it a mouth so it cannot complain.
thanks for the encouragement!
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