Art class.
I'm not good with colours and get made fun of.
Get called colour blind.
Not to mention the people I consider "friends" there tend to put me down.
I know they're doing it and that it's a form of verbal abuse.
It's always a damper on my day.
Then I get home to my parents fighting and I won't proceed from there.
Honestly sometimes I wish I had more friends, good friends, and that my family used to be.
It's upsetting to be honest.
I tend to try as hard as I can to be positive but as I've been fearing, I think I've fallen into another depression.
DO NOT FRET. I am perfectly fine, I promise. I can handle myself, clinical depression is something I've dealt with before and it will not whatsoever effect/affect how I act towards anyone or in general but please do notify me if I do seem to change so I can watch that and not do as such.
I decided to call up the "bus barn" and ride the commoner transportation home as well.
Not only does Antonio tend to cheer me up just by his own grin but it takes longer for me to get home, meaning I won't hear as much yelling. I guess that's good.
YOU ARE READING
Terrifyingly Strange Thoughts of the Cool Type: Part 3 ((closed/finished))
RandomBrought to you by the one host you thought wouldn't give you a brain aneurysm. I promise this will be the last book. ((closed))
