No one wants to hear a true and musty story.
Why sophomore year?
It was only in my second year of high school that I thought of a way to vent.
Also, because the second year of high school is not as pure and fresh as the first year of high school, I am full of hope and have become accustomed to it. I resist externally and look inward instead.
It is self-contradiction, self-doubt, coercing oneself and trying to separate oneself.
It is a retreat from soaking, getting wet, and approaching adulthood.
At this time, I have a past, a future, confusion, and hesitation.
In a vision without a filter, in a throat without words, the perception of youth is dry and jerky.
"Little K, that girl who is always confused and timid."
"There is still some work to do."
Not miserable, not happy, the words I came up with were all said by others.
But I still want to say what I have to say.
""The state of numbness under intellectual suppression"
For the first time in her diary, she wrote words that were not pretentious.
There is no personality, it is every real person in life that I see, which is stuffed into her brain and pushed out by her.
I would like to dedicate this article to my somewhat self-aware self. Anyway, this is a collection of pretentious and distracting thoughts that should have been thrown into the trash can. It is my breathable base.
Purpose: Thinking randomly in high school and looking for stories.