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(how is it that all my attempts to manage my world are so fucking lame, and everyone else's problems seem genuinely justified? Why am I collapsing over the little shit? How does everyone else have all this time and energy to party, and why don't they get sick every time they drink or stay up past 2?)

Sometimes I think it might be kinda nice to be like all the other chiquitas who get fake tans and own multiple pairs of heels and party every Thursday and Saturday.

If I didn't know what to do with myself unless I had a friend around to validate me all the time, or at least someone else in the room in case I actually reflected on something or began to think too deeply (dangerous stuff, that), then I'd be more like them. Which might be comforting.

And it might be nice (it just might) if the person I really want to talk to wasn't so far away.