in two and half weeks this poor little chicken is going to be a soldier. this poor little chicken went through hell yesterday trying to explain herself to the military and although did a fair job of it, it doesn't make it feel any better. i hate being prodded and there's always an affect for this sort of break into my privacy. i hate having to explain myself.
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i'm strange and you don't know what to do about it, and you try to explain yourself and i try too, but it seems everyone else does so much of a better job at that than i do. i feel belittled and i'd rather stay in my shell than step out to be with you.
who are you trying to convince? the fact i may never have a relationship has stopped bothering me so long ago, it seems. why are you bothered? you'll probably end up in a nice loving relationship in which to grow old together. i still wonder if i ever want to see you again. who am i and who are you? you make me happy but you make me silent. obviously it's not you, it's just the effect you spread in the atmosphere around us. every time you tell me about someone else i imagine you're probably very happy together, in a way i'll probably never be. you make me feel a-sexual, a-social... but i would rather spend time with you than with anyone else. i wonder how i look through your eyes, what you think of me. why do you try to keep in contact with me? what's my supposed-role in your life? you seem to already have so many more people than i do. and i have no connection to any of them. we have no mutual friends or anything.
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