how i patiently explained to my mom that actually, i am cool, most people are just really stupid

i was walking home from the library when a mostly seven year old boy in a fancy fast wheel chair came into view heading directly in my direction, directly in the middle of the sidewalk. i thought he would move. i thought he would give me room to walk. i thought he knew sidewalk etiquette, but maybe, not being able to walk, he did not know, because he stayed in the middle of the sidewalk and i had to move into the poop ridden grass, narrowly missing a giant one. he didnt even look at me. i wish someone liked me too, enough to share the sidewalk or visit me for once instead of me always always always having to drive so far without a job or reliable car or call me or remember me beyond the appearance i make when i tag along with you or to not complain to me all the time, especially when i hardly see them (everyone complains to me), when i never complain, so much so that mostly no one even knows what goes on in my life and its been that way for more than a year. we all have problems and i am tired of hearing everyone's so much when mine are making me sad enough.

conclusion: i am tired of leaving temecula to be gotten mad at and complained to and babysat and bored and guilty.