This is the worst breakout I’ve had since high school.
AHHHH FUCK PIMPLES.
Today, it was sunny and beautiful and the daffodils were blooming. I found myself about a year in the past, on that daffodil covered hill with him. We sat talking and looking at unnatural polarized skies as the clouds rolled in for spring rain.
Today grows ever darker and here I am, alone. I don’t want to be here. It’s not that I want to die. It’s that I wish I’d died happy. It’s that I wish I never lived to see this or feel this or be this. Everyone tells me how bright my future is going to be, but I see myself crumbling more and more everyday. I am not getting better. I am falling apart, crumbling into the ocean like the Man on the Mountain on the East Coast. He is unrecognizable; I am starting to be, as well.
I cannot die this miserable wretch I am, so it’s too late. All I have left is this loneliness that lingers everyday. Hope flickers distant and sad in the face of the darkness. It is the only thing I have to hold on to, though, so I hold it close. It at least warms my hand,
I am not dead, but I am losing everything, including myself. I think it would be better to be dead.
There has only been five female characters comfirmed playable compared to fifteen male characters.
I’m amazed at those exact numbers because 33% is the point where men will start thinking there’s a majority of women in a group.