explanations

dont worry, you'll get some job, you may even get into college. and you like living like this anyways, with lament, pretentious and unreal pain surrounding you, scribbling text around it trying to extract some last ounce of sympathy from people who would otherwise never care.

remember more names, reference more appendixes' and forewords and summaries to create the false you, and love it. it gives you satisfaction to realize and know what you cannot do, and not understand. to later cry over it.

To indulge in lives and conversations never meant for you so that you that you can create hero's and epics out of lives you can never reach and will not. To want those things which can never be found, to archive your failure and the genius of others.

You love to escape and you will, dont worry, you will be fine. Dividing the world into the supermen, whom you can never match (and will therefore not try) and the lowly whom are not even worth considering you will create a way through life.

You love to revel in yourself, and you always manage to find people who and underexposed or so sick of your wails that they give in and say good things about you. You're the new connected psychopath, no network conscience and a singular obsessive aim for filling the ego. Forcefully, tactfully, and even immorally wanting and clawing for power and acceptance from others while finding new means to understand your barren, stupid, perfectly useless self.

if you tried to structure this, reread, stop and think, you could get this written better. but that would be a lower average, and you dont want that, you want glamour, style, revelry in the fact that you loose because you choose to.