Melancholy and Morose

It seems like people want to prevent me from being happy.

I wonder about how, like, all the people I know are getting secretly “popular,” meaning famous.  This applies to both old and new “relationships,” anyone I know.

They must think I’m some ungrateful, spoiled and rotten little brat.  If I’m this focal point, they think people “provided” for me and that I’m originally bland.  They think this party needs to turn around.

I must also add it is my home life that’s not so cozy in every way.  It’s nice when I’m alone, but I still feel funny, like about going to get something to eat or leaving my room for any reason, like that I go to the bathroom when I need to.


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