Usually when I feel really upset or weird about life, I revert to this middle school-esque "no one understands me I should post my feelings on a primitive form of social media" mood.
Last weekend, my water bottle broke in my backpack and killed my laptop (my laptop's name is/was :-( Snyder, because of the pretzels, because I really like those pretzels and I really liked my laptop). I have mentioned this sad sad sad chain of events to almost no one because it kind of re-affirms my "nothing really matters" scene kid surroundings that I endured whilst growing up. I don't know, I mean, crying over a dead laptop is such a sad sad mirror up to society, an action that would probably egg on every new-age guru on adverse technological effects on youth.
But, lo and behold, picture me Monday morning at 4:30 AM, halfway through an all-nighter and an abstract paper, crying over my dead laptop, quite literally. I hadn't cried in so long so it was especially sad because suppressing my emotions comes really naturally to me (and most of humankind), so being candid with myself and allowing myself to scrunch my face organically to completely lose my shit is w e i r d
I don't really know what I setting out to say in this post but I'm me. And I have my own stories that impact ME, I have tons I would never tell you or anyone else, especially on the internet. And you have tons of stories you would never tell me or anyone else, ESPECIALLY on the internet.
It gets kind of scary to think that I am typing out these emotions I'll be embarrassed by within the next 24 hours and you, my theoretical probably nonexistent reader, are trying to commiserate or attempting to pull any kind of emotion from your gut to demonstrate to me that the human experience is universal.
Imagine that.
