Trust

No one trusts me. Its like living where no one knows you. As you swap tables and sit by yourself. Even the attempt to communicate is brought down. Imagine. The friends I have are slow and eat like there shouldn't be a tommorrow. I mean, they don't eat at all as far as I'm concerned. I'm the only one with a lunch tray and the preps,goths, and nerds all find time to beat me across the face. I guess that's not entirely true the goths don't and I still am happy. Even if my needs and desires are far from filled. Oh and the only thing that sits on my lunch tray is the core of an apple I just ate. The only thing surrounding my apple core is it's own juice. For some reason my friends call it the blood of an unknown delicacy. How did I meet them? I don't know. One last thing before I leave, I'm not exactly...delightful...to...be around.