Sincerely hope that there is no one out there that does to me what I do to all of you: psychotically obsesses over someone-who-barely-knows-the-other-is-alive.
Do they think I'm smart? The smartest? Funny? The funniest? Good writer? Do they like my art? Even if they haven't 'seen' it? Have they found out I'm 'unlikable' yet? Noticed that my hair is dirty? Can they tell that I'm intentionally insufferable? Do they believe the rumors? There are none. Like my shoes? My eyebrows? Do they think it's adorable that I'm straight-edge? That I feel abused on a daily basis? Willing to ignore my stroke-eye? Ignore my one-bigger-nostril? My weight gain? Virginity? Are they worried what I think of them? It's all bad. Do they think of me when I'm gone? Do they want me to keep them company? Talk on the phone? The kind with the twirling cords? Want to get an apartment? A house? A cat? Would they help me find my keys? Unclog a toilet? Makeout while (while) I vomit? Trust me to put their eyeliner on with precision? Listen to me list off everything I've eaten this week? The things I have to get done? The illnesses WebMD has convinced me of? Either quit smoking or attempt to get me to start? Treatmeequals? Better their appearance without expecting me to better mine? Accept my dominance? Expect my apologies? Never say "you deserve it" because they know that's not actually a thing? Give me the illusion of a perfect body, a perfect soul...want me to notice when their not around...so...special. *run, run, running on (?)* Whatever makes me happy, whatever I want...
+You are all looking really, really good lately. Successful too. Say you want me around+
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