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How does this make you feel.

So I tried to write some poetry today. It was okay. I used to write poems every day. Most of the time they were terrible, terrible poems that didn't make any sense. I wish I could write some of those again. Things don't always have to make sense. They're actually nicer when they don't.

My poem got angry. Very angry. Very quickly. It alarmed me a little bit. I'm not usually an angry or emotional person. Well, sometimes. Sometimes I get angry. I get angry a lot, actually. I'm good at hiding it. Or pretending I'm not really angry. Or maybe I'm not really angry. I get angry a lot or I don't get angry a lot. It's one of those. Or both.

If I was a sin I would be wrath. I know this for certain because I took an internet quiz on it one time. I can see that. I'm also a Scorpio. They're vengeful. Being scorpions and all. In middle school I had an orange shirt with a scorpion on it that I wore to gym a few times. People didn't know my name, I guess, so they called me "scorpion." I wasn't a big fan of it. "That's, uh, not my name." I'd say. Or I'd just smile and think that to myself.

In elementary school a counselor pulled me out of class one day. "Do you get angry a lot?" She asked me. I thought about it. If I said "yes," then they might pull me out of class and make me go somewhere else. I did not want that. I answered her questions calmly. I didn't want to play it too cool. She would've known I was lying. "How would you feel if your best friend didn't invite you to their birthday party?" "Well," I said. "That's okay. We're buying a car soon, so if I didn't get invited that means we wouldn't have to spend money to get a present. If he's my best friend then I know we'll hang out anyway." She looked at me. "You're a very mature young man, and I don't think you have any anger management problems. I wonder what your teacher was talking about. Let's go back inside." I smiled.

I should've told the truth.

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