by joestarspunchnazis
i was maybe five the first of many times it happenedby then my father was a strangerunrecognizable as a lone star amidst the whole burning night seaa point of light shrinking at theend of
a long and unlit hallwayand other people were as mysteriousas foreign languagesor why my pets had to diei was in a school my mothercouldn’t afford but somehow did anywaywanting to belong to
these strange butnot dissimilar looking creatures i grabbed a box of sharply curving plastic pieces and insinuated myself at a table with three other childrenbut i was mistaken because we
were so different that when I took my seatthey all rose as one,
joined in somecommunal mind from which i was excludedand moved to another table entirelynaive and hopeful i tried againtook my seat and set my lesson box downwith
a brittle plastic clatterand again they all stood in rejectioni sat there a moment trying to processwhat had happened and incapable of doing soto this day i’m still at that table trying
to understand what about meis so goddamn repulsive
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