The trouble...

The trouble
with being pretty
is nobody likes you cause you're you
they like you cause you're pretty
and you're pretty

The trouble
with being smart
is not being smart enough to figure out
how to get pretty
I wish I was pretty




The trouble
with being white
is knowing your ancestors didn't act right

The trouble with being tall
Is everybody wants you to play basketball

One event, three explanations

My brain has a rule.

I didn't invent it. I didn't choose it. At least it doesn't feel that way.

The rule is this: unless you can come up with three different explanations for an event, you are not allowed to come to any conclusions.

It is unsettling to think like this.
Hell. It is unsettling to live like this too.

But I do.

And I wouldn't change it...