i sat at the table in the cafe listening to yet another conversation of which i understood three sentences. i tried to make my flight swiftly and painlessly but ended up having to talk to the same stupid boys who also ask stupid questions and make stupid statements implying that they're going to pay me a house visit later. i finally escaped my the clutches of my not so caring friend and made it to where the path to my house meets the road, and i promptly slipped on the wet grass and fell directly into the eight inch rut between the concrete and the end of the walkway. i managed a quick "fuck", then let a few tears out. just lay here, i thought. at least now you have a reason to cry.

as i finally made it to the safety of my house and turned the key in the darkness i thought, how long do i have to feel this utterly incompetent? and after two years of consistently feeling inadequate, will i be a better person for having survived?