The Worse B-word than B**ch

I am terribly dreading THE day, June 3. not because I’d have to continue attending school, but rather, the fact that I have to face riding on the b again. It’s not that I hate my parents for providing me a vehicle that would make my life much easier than riding the bus, but I just really don’t go well with the people I go with in the bus. 

They’re really okay, in their own respective ways. They just don’t understand me and I don’t understand them. It’s like a mutual misunderstanding. I don’t really talk in there because no one talks to me, and when they do, I usually answer dumbly or stupidly. I become really nervous when somebody (from the b) talks to me. 

It all started in first year, they began to tease me behind my back. I don’t really mind their business, but they mind mine, so, I began to really dislike them. It isn’t my fault that during the first few months during my first year, I cried because I missed my old school, my old friends, and basically my old life. I’m not like them, and that’s not necessarily bad, right?

There’s a few good people there, not gonna mention names since this blog became not so secret anymore, due to my decision. I just wish I make friends there this year, because last year went not so well. The newbies were closer to them than I was, and I’ve been there a year before them. 

I try to brush it off, but it won’t come off. It’s a fact, a horrible fact, that I have to live with for the next 10 months. I try to be optimistic, but like the gym, it’s a vacuum of happiness and a storm of despair. I shouldn’t really be saying these things because people from the b might read this, but they might, possibly, even understand my situation with them and turn things around.






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