It would be fair to say that I’ve been quite unfair lately. It’s not that I don’t feel entirely entitled to be utterly irrational and share my disordered thinking and over-thought unrealised ideas with the world - such are others, so am I - but, yes, I’ve been unfair.
I’ve been past focused and fevered imagination focused and not at all here and now focused. I’ve been looking in other people’s windows, making stories for them, and imagining they’re real. Maybe they are real. They’re not my real though.
The here and now is balancing being liked for myself – which is, apparently, possible – and being the annoying fat girl who gets in the way when you’re trying to talk to the pretty girl. Sure, she was pretty but you didn’t need to score points off me.
This would go on but apologies are not my thing and, besides, I’ve run out of things to say. I think I might sit around and drink hot chocolate and remember that even the crazy can be adorable if you’re disposed to like. Be disposed. It’s an order.