bottling it uop.

I fell over in tesco today. I didn’t hurt myself, but the point is i fel so different to everyone else. every fall, every spasm, everuy twitch is starting to great. and if you start to complain, your mum tellss .you your acting liker a spoiled brat. So you boottle it up, tryIng not to let it ge.t to /you. I think of my mates at school, who have it ten times wworse, and remind myself I have nO cause to complain. Yet i also thinkk of the sstaring eeyes of evvery bog-eyed sprog in tesco, who’s mothers wisper “don’t stare”, and i wish for a way to escape, but there is no escape but to bottle one’s feelings up and smile.

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