once upon a tiny room, there was a hideous golden chair

if only i was still this attractive

if only i was still this attractive

Actually, there were two, which is worse, but that is neither here nor there.

I was sixteen. I think. Unfortunately, or whatever, i might STILL make this face when a camera is pointed at me.

This is proof there are some things we will never alter about ourselves. Ever. This also means the thing you find annoying about a friend/teacher/boss/stranger, will likely never change. Tough. You can only change your mind to not be bothered.

I don’t like it either.

This particular “flaw” I harbor, as displayed to the right, is quite “dealwithable”, or so I like to think. There are plenty worse.

Enough with that, now on to why this picture was taken in the first place:

In highschool, during church activities on Wednesday, two of my friends, whoever else we could drag along, and I used to sit in the lounge attached the women’s restroom and talk for an hour or so. There are many pictures much the same as this, minus that lovely expression. We skipped activities for the most part because they were lame and usually involved quilting or writing letters to missionaries we didn’t even know. The adults in charge would always say “the missionaries just looovvveee getting letters from you all!”

I found that creepy.

Personally, if I was a twenty-something male who just basically committed to 2 years hard (although i’m sure very rewarding…blahhappystuffblah) labor without even the chance at having a girlfriend….the LAST thing I would want was 12 semi-pointless, vapid and rhetorical, one-paragraph letters from underage girls. I would find that thoroughly depressing. In a way, I would think the letters, the papers themselves, were mocking me.

All things aside, the only topics I could come up with to write were either disturbingly out of left-field, mildly inappropriate, or outrageously self-indulgent. The only seemingly available subjects, after weeding everything out, for this one-way letter conversation were too small-talky and insignificant to me. How could they be bothered to care either?

Enough with this thinking like a twenty year old male. Now my mind is pretty blank. I wonder if that’s what it’s like…


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Filed under highschool non-nostalgia, i was so cool/awesome/hottttt, old antics

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