Try as I might to combat them, they eat away at my brain like I'm some kind of freaking lobster buffet.
When I think about my "problems", I consider: In 20 years, if it doesn't matter, don't worry about it.
But what if it does matter in 20 years?
What if these petty teenage woes end up festering and breeding until they are considerable adult afflictions?
Am I just fooling myself into thinking they are inconsequential?
Should I use a few more rhetorical questions before I go completely loony?
Should I care whether "he likes me", if I'm "going to pass the math test", if I'm "actually living in a very realistic dream and will soon wake up to find that I am only a newborn child who was in a deep sleep"?
No, I shouldn't care if he likes me.
I should care about my math test.
I shouldn't worry that my life is a twisted dream that I'm going to wake up from and be just a baby in a crib.
But, of course, I do care if he likes me.
I really don't care about my math test.
I do occasionally worry that it's all just a dream.
My "problems" are foolish. I am foolish.
Yet - these are the things that munch on my toes at night and keep me awake.
Thought of the day: I am nudity.
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