I’m not cool, I’m me.

There is no way of writing this without sounding like a douche, so I’m just gunna write it.

People sometimes call me ‘cool’.

Whenever this happens it kinda weirds me out, because to me, I’m not cool I’m just….me.

In my head I’m still the girl who had to pretend she didn’t like Barbie or My Little Pony anymore because her friends didn’t, even though she still played with them by herself.

I’m still the teenager who ate lunch alone and wrote poetry locked in a toilet cubicle because no one wanted to hang out with me.

I’m still the uni student who ate Pickled Onion Monster Much for dinner, even though I hate them, because they were the only thing in my halls room and I was too anxious to leave it.

I’m not cool, I’m a socially awkward loser who society has made it clear doesn’t fit in.

So when people call me cool. I find it kinda weird.

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