or maybe not.
Everyday I talk to the people I love, and who I think love me; isn’t that melencholy? I think they love me, I’m never really sure. I can’t be sure they like me because I can’t read minds so it’s all a guessing game.
But you know what else? I can’t talk to everyone about everything. I have friends with whom all I talk about is out latest legal punishment- homework. I have friends with whom I joke about the word areola, immature, I know, but then, aren’t we all?
It is rather disappointing that I can’t talk to to these people after school, because I can’t talk about homeowrk and because there are only so many conpliments you can give. I guess sporadically there are weddings and one-off kanye announcements that tale us all by surprise and unaccounted for envy, but that’s not always.
There are people who you can go to starbucks with and sit and talk for hours about book ideas and the latest episode of your favourite show; there are people who you can go to starbucks with, order the latest drink and hide your having nothing in common behind a façade of shopping queenery and Urban Outfitters sales. There is a difference.
One day we won’t all be in the same class, under the obvious tyranny of the school system, we’ll be in different jobs, with more important things to talk about.
I never want this to happen. Never.
Make conversation with this, another day of friendship.