Quotes added on Tuesday, February 2 2016

I walk through the halls of most peoples Hell, seing my friends waiting by the library. I wave the wait. I over hear numeros conversations about how this person Is cute or this person Is Beautiful. I walk Hannah, Avery and Mace to there Bus. I hear the same conversations.I start the walk home to my personal hell called Home.Its to hard to escape the conversations of vanity.I think about the conversations I hear,trying to think back to the last time someone called me beautiful, or even remotly pretty. I can't... Because no ones ever thought of me as beautiful, not atleast someone who cares enough to tell me. If My own mother can't look me in the eye and call me beautiful, then who can??

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