Her Confusion
I just… I don't know.
Yeah, yeah, you never hear that coming out of my mouth. No, I'm the brainiac, the know-it-all. I know everything, all the time. Ask me a question, I have the textbook answer. Don't understand something, ask away and I can explain the theory that even the theorist didn't understand.
And yet… If all that's true, why don't I understand? Why don't I have the answer? Why am I so confused that I feel like pulling out my hair?
Oh, confused?
Yeah, join the club.
Isn't it funny how the person with all the answers is confused as a first-year doing seventh-year Arithmancy?
Just listen to me laugh.
There are a few 'questions of life,' right? How was the earth created; who came first, the chicken or the egg; how do you make someone you love, fall in love with you?
Oh I could give you some pretty good answers for the first couple questions, but that last one? Nope. Clueless.
I sit here, staring at myself in the mirror, and I can't help but laugh too. Laugh along with all those girls that laugh as I walk by, pointing at my hair and teeth and the tennis ball size bags under my eyes. 'Cause you know, it is rather funny.
How could someone chose me over them, with their soft hair and long, slender legs? Their sweet voices and pouty lips. Their seductress smiles and swaying hips.
But me, I'm just the plain 'ole student with frizzy hair and an IQ through the roof.
Who would want me?
A.N.
Something I started a few weeks ago, forgot, then kinda finished. I know, I know, really short. But I've got crazy stuffs going on, school, and work, and being crazy. Hehe…
Oh, you don't believe me?