[it’s where you could find me when you couldn’t find me anywhere else]

ain’t perfect.

i’m not perfect. cliché, i know.

i am clumsy. i spill coffee on new carpets. i drop things and break teacups. i step on my shoelace and fall on my face. i hit myself with a tennis racket a hundred times. but still i am trying to learn lawn tennis.

my hair doesn’t always stay in place. in the morning, i’d spend at least an hour trying to untangle it. then another hour to make it look not-so-wild. i know i resented my hair since birth. but still i don’t cut it short.

i piss off my friends. most of the times, i argue with them over little things. i get bitchy and make them cry. i keep a lot of secrets from them and i wonder if i’m ever friendly enough for them to share their secrets with me.  but still they’re my friends.

i get my heart broken. i have the knack of choosing the wrong guy and ending up crying over him and over my stupidity. or maybe i am the wrong girl. i am always selfish. jealous. clingy.

i am a bad student. i sleep in class. i raise the dirty finger on my professor. i give smartass answers. i eat popcorn during classes and distract everyone.

and i don’t really know why i’m telling all these…

can someone tell me?


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