As it stands I have a fairly comfortable life. I live in an average house in an average bedroom, with an average family filled with average people. I go to an average school with lots of average people. I get average marks in return for my average world. I suppose I like and enjoy my life, but then it’s not that special. And neither am I.
Basically I’m your average teenager.
But then something amazing happened and all of a sudden I didn’t care anymore. About my family or house or room or school or friends or anything. It was reality. Reality of life and love and everything in it. Reality ripped my world asunder.
I can’t deny that I didn’t welcome the shaking sensation of watching it all fall. And I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it as I sat back and watched every bit of this perfect, little bubble I had spent so long surrounding myself in, fall to pieces, like watching a movie unfold. I knew the outcome, the result of it all. And I loved every minute of it.
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