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February 21, 2008
Sometimes I feel so hopelessly complicated. I realize that only through getting to know other people that the realization I'm not alone hits. But where were these other people in 7th grade when one day I walked to the mailbox in thick brown glasses and a cardigan, pledging allegiance to myself that I'd make more friends in 8th grade? All I got was a sappy Peter Gabriel song dancing with a big girl under the scrutiny of my Dad and 8th grade science teacher conversing candidly about over my disposition which continues in seemingly subconcious ways, hating it conciously.