What I want to Be

Being a teenage girl whose specialty is being bad at communicating with other human beings, I have mastered the art of answering polite ice-breaker questions with as few words as possible. You know the type, the oh-look-the-weather queries people will throw at you when you’re making them uncomfortable with the way you just stand there not talking holding a knife with a Joker-from-Batman smile on your face feel awkward.

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LIKE OMG IT’S TIFF AUD AND BRI, aka The Fake American Personas

I have a friend (who I met at this lovely thing here, and who I will call R) who I do not see often.

As a result of this thing only occurring once a week, and of us not always going to the same one, we communicate mostly through text, where we’ve done some sort of unusual things.

There was the # phase, where we would converse with brief, Twitter-esque hastags, i.e:

Me: #chocolate #omnomnom

R: #ihateyou

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