I don't even want to post this because I'm still learning how to write corrctly because I'm a BIG DUMB. And I honestly suck at writing, so. I'm sorry.

Had a nice idea! Thought about Stan's immense drinking problem and his depression. Put that together with a bunch of pills he (most likely) gets prescribed. Outcome? This, apparently.

Also, TW for the descriptions about what happened to Kyle. in later chapters I needed something to fuel his depression even more, IDK. ? Kyle ded. Or something. I'm still debating on if I should do that or not. Or if Kyle just got fed up with Stan's constant spew of bullshit progressing from his anus to his mouth and just up and left. LOL.

Everything is not as it seems, Stan.

I like myself.

At least, I think I do.

I'm not sure if others like me just as much as I think. Who tends to dwell on that fact so much, though? Aren't we all occupied with something else? School? Relationships? Maintain a high social life with absolutely no standards when concerning parents and who you're going to sleep with? I like to think of myself as...optimistic! My therapist would think otherwise.

I mean. Everything is moving so fast. I don't know how to process much of my high school life. I'm already going to college at the age of 18. Can you believe that? You probably can. It's not a big achievement or anything, not to say I'm not proud of myself for actually pushing through and getting it done. The day I graduated, my therapist bought me a cake and gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me, "Well done, Stan!"

I think I was happy.

My therapist, Mrs. Dorana-she insists I call her Polly-has been more of a mother figure than anything. After my mom and dad got in a fight and my dad just left, things haven't been the same. My mom's happiness dwindled into a deep depression and. I don't know what to do for her. Everything is hurting my head. How is Kyle? I should call him. He's lonely. He's gone. They dismembered him. I miss him. Where's Cartman? He overdosed, huh? Should I kiss Kenny and Craig today? They're cute. They're cute and happy and a couple and I should really stop having these weird homo gay faggot queer thoughts about them but I can't because they're cute and it's hurting me inside and whenever Kenny smiles it lights up my whole day and did you know his favorite ice cream is pistachio and Craig has braces which he hides because he's embarrassed and his dimples indent in ways thatCURLUPMYINTESTINES. Smile, blush, hide. Smile, blush and hide. Smile blush hide. Smileblushhide. They do it a lot. I don't think they know about me. I mean. They know about me! Of course! Stan Marsh, the most vile, degenerate, humiliating piece of trash scum to ever pop out of society's proverbial asshole.

That's me.

You guys probably know about Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, and I, huh? We all split up in time. Kenny ventured off with Craig and Clyde to go do...whatever. Stupid shit, probably. I heard they set a house on fire. I heard they killed animals. I heard they got bored and started killing humans. I loathe them for their bravery. I doubt Kenny would do it, though. Kenny's nice and his hair is soft and he reminds me of the sun. The sun. Shining bright and illuminating and making you feel warm all over. I love Kenny. No. I'm in love with Kenny. It's disgusting. Polly is trying to help me get over it. She understands the pain it brings me to see him with the other boy I'm in love with.

Cartman wondered off somewhere. As soon as the incident with Kyle happened we all just sort of. Ignored Cartman. Cartman and Kenny were close as they got older, too. It was pretty sad to see them go their separate ways. I'm pretty sure they've fucked a few times. Here I am, still a virgin in all. Maybe Wendy is up for being a grade A no-strings-attached booty call. A spur of the moment. Does she hate me? I think she does hate me. She has cute boobs. A nice butt. Her hair is so soft and long how does she keep it that way? She hates me.

Who am I kidding.

I hate me.

Polly tells me my self loathing is just another way of me getting better. I doubt it. I don't think it's healthy. This is why I see a therapist, right? So she can help me get out of my non-healthy and nasty habits? It's like she's doing the opposite. I think she's wearing down my self esteem. Or just plain out WEARING it. Like a necklace, placed neatly above her pale freckled neck like some sort of prize she won at a big competition. I could just imagine her finely painted nails curling up over the chain and her smirking, tsking about how she was proud of herself for grabbing my amazing self proclaimed and HYPOTHETICAL self-esteem. Showing it off. FUCK, Polly. Kenny told me to never trust therapists. They were evil, and they "ain't knowin' what they're actually talkin' about, dude!" His nose twitched as his own name was called to see his therapist. I've seen her a couple of times! She's tall and painted like chocolate with wavy brown hair that comes up to the mid of her back. Much, much, much more prettier than my therapist is. But it's not a competition, is it? She smells like sex and chocolate and I'm sure Kenny is fucking around with her knockers.

I wish he would fuck around with my knockers. Craig picks Kenny up from the office every Thursday at 3pm. He wears his usual blue chullo. He usually wears red converse. Kenny kisses him on the cheek, whispers something in his ear and then they're on their way. This last Thursday, Craig came early. He sat next to me. "What's up, Marsh." He said, raising one of his perfectlytrimmedlgoriousfantasticBEAUTIFUL eyebrows. I swallow everything. My pride, my love, my eagerness to sit on his lap and trail kisses from his jaw to the bulge of his pants. "Waiting."

He just hums in response and gives me a look.

It was honestly the most pathetic, yet ME response I could muster at that exact moment. Kenny comes out and Craig stands, grinning, taking the blondes hand. I feel jealousy rise inside of me. I don't know who I'm jealous of.

They leave without saying a word.