It was a part of being who she was, she knew by now, laughing at things no one else found funny, being completely comfortable with circumstances that would faze almost everyone else. The joke going over her head while everyone laughed, and being uncomfortable with something everyone else felt at home with. When the world walked, she stood back, and when she walked, the world discouraged. She knew she was nothing to be proud of. No, far from it. Yet people looked upto her, and she didn’t know why. At least, not until she found her kind of crazy.
There’s more to life than I see, and I’ve realized that both people who think I’m cool and those who think I’m a fool matter t some extent.