To be damned or not to be?

There comes a time in eveybody's life when you turn into a teenage dirtbag and start mocking your life. And each one of us is more pessimistic and skeptic than anyone else in our own way. It's humiliating and it's complete bullshit and it makes us all hypocrites. One thing I know for sure though, and that is that whenever I'm nervous, I find myself switching from Romanian onto English. And I often find myself thinking in English. When I'm either extremely happy, or afraid, I think in German. And only in a parallel Universe do I use maths to express my thought. Numbers don't mean anything to me. Ok, I'm a big fat liar, there is one number I fancy.

I don't hate the fact that I'm or am not even yet a teenager, but I despise the bad parts, like everything else. It's that idiotic time in life when you might catch yourself laughing hysterically and the next moment you might be discovered by your best friend, crying your lungs out like a two year old.

Imagine I just coughed the word "Bullshit".

And the only ok thing that happened today: I was lying on the floor at school, like a nowadays dedicated pupil, looking all grumpy and p*ssed, on the verge of either yelling some curse-word out, or maybe shedding a tear or two, when my buddy told another chick that he wasn't going to class, because he wanted to see what was wrong with me (pointless, but quite nice of him). He then asked me: "What's up?". But another friend of mine was there first with a kind of an answer: "Why do you ask her what's up? Can't you see she's down?". Yeah, I was the one with these kind of jokes once, but it's awesome when you hear a good friend of yours stealing your style. And that's how we got to other linguistic jokes, and before I left school, after playing ma ol' violin and ma harmonica and spending some quality times with my friends, I reached this conclusion:

"To be damned or not to be? That is the question."