What ever happened to the smart me? The insightful me? The philosopher me? Maybe it was all just teen angst. Either way, it was nice. Bulimia made me brain dead. Instead of stringing sentences together with grace, I stumble and stammer over simple words. Sure, I can tell you 2 + 2 = 4, but I can't tell you what 238823987218761826187615764 x 8 divided by 2 is. I've never been one for logic, always the one for words. Where did that go? Did that part of me run off to become an actress in Hollywood? Has she disappeared forever? I don't know. I do know that I'm not a defeatist, despite the general consensus. I just so happened to have lost a bit of self-esteem along the way.
In short: I bombed the SATs
Have a good one.
In short: I bombed the SATs
Have a good one.