Ack.I have no idea what my title means.still working on it .this stories
very spur of the moment --; I was sort of doing Euro hw and abandoned it to
find worthy distractions
It was chilly. I quicken my leisurely pace slightly tightening my jacket.
'How embarrassing.' I thought, 'A senior in high school and still walking to school like I did three years ago.'
It was thoughtful, cool autumn days like these that I made a half-hearted effort to be annoyed by little inconveniences like lack of transportation. But really it was difficult to when the sun beamed promisingly and the cold wrapped a comforting grip on my jittery nerves. It was strange, every first day of school I got this tingly feeling that I couldn't shake off.
First days were like any other days I attended school, moderate, uneventful, very regular, maybe even more so with my weak little first-day- of-school expectations that were firmly squashed. I'm nearly eighteen, I'm mature and collected and...preping myself for high school...I mentally slapped my head. Lame. I am so lame.
I let my mind wander randomly a bit, but like some unconcious, unbidden tradition right when school started, I reviewed myself silently. Just to make sure nothing's changed and I'm up to (my unimpressive) par.
Kagome Higurashi. Brunette, normal blue eyes, normal height and figure.
Not very pretty,
not very talented,
not very interesting.
The kind of normal that lets me easily imagine myself as some painfully regular person bagging someone's groceries; really if I were someone else I wouldn't even notice me.
My mom says I have lovely eyes when they're occasionally tinted with gray, she's really sweet, I love her to death. But when she says things like that I kind of feel depressed, if I had 11 toes she'd say it was lovely. Now don't get my wrong I'm not some unhappy, angry teenager that bitches at her unexciting life all the time and hates the world or something. In fact I'd say I was pretty cheerful most of the time. It's just quiet walks like these where I realize how with minimal effort I can blend perfectly into the backgrounds of walls and shrubbery. It's disappointment and patheticness all wrapped in a neat package. With that rueful thought I shake my head to clear it and continue with my profound trek towards the school gates. I can't explain the sudden sour taste in my mouth.
It was chilly. I quicken my leisurely pace slightly tightening my jacket.
'How embarrassing.' I thought, 'A senior in high school and still walking to school like I did three years ago.'
It was thoughtful, cool autumn days like these that I made a half-hearted effort to be annoyed by little inconveniences like lack of transportation. But really it was difficult to when the sun beamed promisingly and the cold wrapped a comforting grip on my jittery nerves. It was strange, every first day of school I got this tingly feeling that I couldn't shake off.
First days were like any other days I attended school, moderate, uneventful, very regular, maybe even more so with my weak little first-day- of-school expectations that were firmly squashed. I'm nearly eighteen, I'm mature and collected and...preping myself for high school...I mentally slapped my head. Lame. I am so lame.
I let my mind wander randomly a bit, but like some unconcious, unbidden tradition right when school started, I reviewed myself silently. Just to make sure nothing's changed and I'm up to (my unimpressive) par.
Kagome Higurashi. Brunette, normal blue eyes, normal height and figure.
Not very pretty,
not very talented,
not very interesting.
The kind of normal that lets me easily imagine myself as some painfully regular person bagging someone's groceries; really if I were someone else I wouldn't even notice me.
My mom says I have lovely eyes when they're occasionally tinted with gray, she's really sweet, I love her to death. But when she says things like that I kind of feel depressed, if I had 11 toes she'd say it was lovely. Now don't get my wrong I'm not some unhappy, angry teenager that bitches at her unexciting life all the time and hates the world or something. In fact I'd say I was pretty cheerful most of the time. It's just quiet walks like these where I realize how with minimal effort I can blend perfectly into the backgrounds of walls and shrubbery. It's disappointment and patheticness all wrapped in a neat package. With that rueful thought I shake my head to clear it and continue with my profound trek towards the school gates. I can't explain the sudden sour taste in my mouth.