the golden mean of self loathing

I don't think anybody loves being alone as much as I do. I just enjoy solitude, don't need company, it's nice i mean but I think it's wrong to depend on others for happiness. All praise does is taint the soul. This one girl who follows me around, all she does is repeat what I say. When we're out together they ask if we're siblings. All she does is give a goofy grin and turn to me and say 'I don't know, are we siblings?' It's infuriating sometimes, to be the only one with an opinion.

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sometimes i leave a story alone for so long that i forget what it was originally meant to be. someone, please finish this one for me