Ok, so I've been told I need to write more. It just so happens I don't have anything to say. Obviously this is a lie, because I'm saying things now, but I don't have anything "good" to say. So instead, I will tell you all a "story."
Once upon a time there was a girl named Annabelle. Anabelle was a pretty nice girl most the time; had all these questions of how to make things nice for more people, what it meant to be nice, whether things could be nice and not nice at the same time, and whether her eyes were big enough to see all the possibilities. One day, while Annabelle was at work folding sheets, a woman about her mother's age came up to her and started asking questions and telling stories. Annabelle wasn't really all that interested at first, she was trying to get her work done so she could go and play Guitar Hero. Well, the woman kept talking, and Annabelle kept listening, and she started to realize that this woman was just bored and being friendly. Annabelle learned more about this stranger than she knew about some of her family, and it made her wonder what it was that made this woman so forthcoming. If only Annabelle would have thought about this more, she would have prevented herself from falling into a lot of trouble. Annabelle though was going through one of her optimistic phases, where every one is relyable, and everyone tries to be trustworthy and kind, so she was completely oblivious to all the signs....to be continued.
Sorry, I'll finish later, gotta get coffee, now now now.
