What's There to Love?

I don't dress properly. I'm easy to bully and I'm not the pretty girl in class. My head is stuck between the pile of books reading about what causes human to sneeze. I'm not popular, and probably won't ever be. My friends talk about fashion designers, I talk about poets and authors. People are intrigued with drama, I try my best to stay away. Girls change boyfriends like changing which heels to wear, I'd fall in love with one guy, just as I stick with my muddy Converse. I'm random, I blurt out words that don't fit with conversations. I have a big laugh. I barely use lotion, I somehow like my zebra skin pattern. I stick my head out the window to feel the sunlight... Or rain. I sing about love, cry about love. I change my moods constantly, and not even with a warning in advance, which cause me to despise my ability to push people away that much more. I guess I'm not like most girls, but that doesn't make me feel left out, I embrace being different, although people think it's a silly thought. Guys who fell in love with me would either be stupid or just another hopeless romantic trying to win my headstrong heart. I'm a little insecure; I guess that you can already tell. My hair's always out of place. Well I guess I'm always a big mess.

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