We have found ourselves in an unusual place of teendom that falls exactly between "too cool for school" and "rose-smelling". It's a hole, a crevice in the wall, a chink in our armour. I have my place in a room with many doors, many walls, and many mouths and eyes. Smiling has become perfunctory since I appear amicable not out of goodwill, but because of that devouring desire to be favoured. Not that the adults deserve it, no, not at all. They are very nice but I just.
I just miss my friends.
It's alright 'cause there's beauty in the breakdown. (Frou Frou, Let Go)
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