walkingparadox
The mother duck said to the father duck, "We really have to do something. He's not getting along with others, he's not swimming as fast, and overall, I'm just worried." The father replied, "Don't worry. Our kid's going to be fine. Liz can't write onewords well!"
I'm all strung out now on the medicine, furthered more by the weed. This television show I'm watching feels like an invention of ancient civilizations. It glows.
The bronze of her achievement caught my eye, ebbing and flowing, taunting me. It bruised my sensitive ego. Why couldn't I for once have a chance to at least place in something? The words of my grandmother came back to me: "Jealousy is a slow yet harsh knife to the spirit." A tear formed as I reminisced my grandmother's warmth, and decided to take a positive outlook as I turned my head to the side. I would relish in her glory, but only this once.
My train of thought traveled from one idea to the next, racing as I tried desperately to complete my History exam. I never thought I would fail anything - I was the token perfectionist of my class, and now I was ruining it.