When I got off the subway, it was raining horribly, and the rain that you haven’t yet come out of the subway, you’re like, “I’m going to go away.”
It was freezing, and the cars honked the horns in a row, and my ketones were full of water, and I was hungry. Under my mask, there was a snot, sweat, and rain mixing, and to be honest, there was a taste of salt in my mouth that I don’t know which of the three ways, I was in such a situation that I played my phone, and I went upstairs and Threw my head down and ran. House.
The light of the cars was so beautiful, and the cold water had soaked my whole body and soaked with all this; I remembered that three years ago, because of my social anxiety when I came out, and my eyes were falling on people, my legs were locked out of fear, but now at 6 o’clock with dark air and under the rain, I’m walking for myself and listening to me, so instead of protesting, Looks like there’s a sugar place.
Since I’m not living with my mom and dad anymore, life’s been challenging, I have to make food for myself, and God’s house has always been war-torn. When I get off the subway and see if there’s air at war, I can’t even tell anyone to come after me, the result of a student living a terrible diet that’s not less malnourished and has blistered legs, but from feeling like a teenager is stuck. I’m not my mom and dad, but I still don’t have reason to be happy about it because I’m mainly dying.