Being understood.
I hate how it never seems to happen at all.
He's laughing one moment, fragile the next.
If this is what I can see from the back corner, why can't anyone else see it from the front of the room.
They think about materialistic items, judging others only on that. They think that talking about shooting Mexicans is funny. They think things like that. They think that this is all one big joke. But it's not. You have to be kind before you can stand up for yourself and tell the world you're a nice person.
That's one of my many opinions that are never voiced. My words are things not heard.
[[So I've decided to do this thing. I'll try to get different people each week, or something, to tell me their thoughts so I can post them hear. This is what I heard from Molly. The other ones will be different. They won't talk about the same things. Maybe I'll have some of the same people. You know? I don't have that many friends, so it'll be hard and different to ask people who are '"above me on the social scale."']]
