(recovered from Drafts) Codename W.W. and not L. Frank Baum

As a kid I used to be compared to my mom's friend's daughter. You know what I mean right? Your parents' friends have kids, approximately your age and you guys have been "forced" to see each other while your parents socialize. I was older and she was younger and unfortunately or fortunately for whoever you're sympathizing with, it was always me who came out looking like the dumbo. I'm certain that her mom and even my parents were seriously considering the prospects of me struggling for the rest of my academic career in the public school system. Because, I was always behind in math. Since I was a kid. I'd read during math class in elementary. It didn't interest me. And well, it's not really my worry now that I'm in college, because well...I got a B in Statistics AND IT WAS THE LAST MATH CLASS I'D EVER HAVE TO TAKE!

But yeah. We were compared. ALL THE TIME. From everything to grades to art. And beyond. I mean I was for a while the tall one who was wider and had glasses and braces. When she got glasses and braces, she always looked "adorable" or "cute." I looked like a beaver with cataracts, magnifying glasses and super-glued tiny mirrors to my teeth. She became tall and slender. I became short and squat. Yeah, I'm still bitter. I know. It's an old ghost, but I'm still burning. You have to understand, this is literally my childhood horror I stared at right in the face today. I shouldn't really blame her, it was her mother and well her mother is paying for her sins.

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This was from months and months and months ago. I was on fire, on a roll, but didn't finish. Maybe my thoughts will retrace back to the memory of writing this and it will be finished. Until then, that's all.