Pain - The Site You Don't Wanna Know About

I Wrote This In 20 Minutes Oops Sorry

I looked at the mirror, and I saw a familiar face.
"Who are you," I thought to myself.
It seemed as if I was a vampire, because the person I saw was very clearly not me.
Infact, it looked like a pear. An ugly shape, an ugly design. I hate pears.
But there was no one behind me. Very mysterious, indeed.
Almost as if I was a pear myself. A scary thought.
But I've never seen a red pear before. Maybe an apple would be more fitting?
But no. Apples are great. I love apples. They're so apple-like. Unlike pears.

Mom loved pears. I don't know why. It was a mystery that could never be solved.
Much to my dismay, she gave me pears to eat. It was awful. I wanted to cry.
I wanted apples. So I secretly ate some while she wasn't looking.
It went well. I was happy. But Mom noticed. She went bananas.
Bananas make me sad. I prefer peaches. So, like, shut it, Mom.

I go to school. Indeed, I do go to school.
It almost seems like I would go to school, and I do.

There is the pear division, and the apple division.
I like apples, so I went there.
But that didn't go very well.
Like planting an egg in a desert.

It was a blue day. Berry would be proud. I go home.
"O Blimey, why do you look like an apple?"
This question was very stupid. Mom liked to ask stupid questions.
Apple skin was smeared across my face. Not by her, of course.
I went to my roomba. What a peary day, I thought to myself.

I cried myself to onions. Boy were they tasty on my burger.
Tomorrow, things would be different. I would become a tomato...
...So I entered the school the next day. Apple division once again.
Pears to pears, apples to apples. That's how it works.

But I eat apples, so it's fine.

Infact, I peel them.
I cut them in pieces.
I put them in a blender.
There's so much I'm willing to do with apples.
I want apples to know that I love apples.
I want them to accept me.

If I had a choice between pears and apples, I would go for apples.
It's just the rational decision.
But life is anything but rational.

I left school just in time and headed home.
Mom said, "O Blimey, why do you look like a red pear?"
This question was justified. So I said:

"I wanted to eat apples."

Then there was trouble.