Why Is It ...

… that people keep reminding me to get my tires rotated? I’m pretty sue they rotate while I’m driving, but thanks anyway.

… that people don’t get that I laugh most stuff off because prision doesn’t cook the food I like.

… that life is like toilet paper; you’re either on a roll or you’re taking shiz from some asshole?

… that my first instinct when I see an animal is to say ‘Hello, and yet my first instinct when I see a human is to avoid eye contact and hope it goes away?

… that I can never be a good superhero? Is it because I know I would see the signal calling me in the sky and mutter: “I literally just poured a cup of coffee.”

… that I have shenanned before and I will shenanigan?

… that when I saw a hot man at McDonald’s spank his kid after the child threw his fries on the ground, that I also threw my fries on the ground?

… that sticks and stones may break my bones and words will also hurt me; compliments make me uncomfortable. I have social anxiety. I’m a wreck. Just go.