"MAGIKARP is virtually useless in battle as it can only splash around. As a result, it is considered to be weak. However, it is actually a very hardy POKéMON that can survive in any body of water no matter how polluted it is."Pokedex from Sapphire
I'm a baller.
Not as in throwing dollah-dollah bills at strippers (although I've done that as well) but I mean I cry. A lot.
I cry in traffic sometimes, and anything involving the police. I got into a fender bender once, and I was so distraught, the officer gave me a bag to breathe into. Really, the road is not a place I should be, not even as a 'women can't drive' stereotype. I cry at Phillip Phillp's "Home." No one is safe.
There's too much emotional turmoil going on to pay attention to blinkers and stop lights and other pedestrians.
The only place I've cried more than on the road is at Samford.
How does one describe Samford? It's like a gated community for retired folks. It's like a safe zone parents leave their home schooled raised man-children. It's like a church in denial of anarchy.
It's pretentious, beautiful, and not a place I should have found myself fresh out of high school.
I was too worldly to be a nervous freshman, but I was still too naive to pretend to be anything else. And at that point that's all I was doing: putting up a pretense.
Nolan was my first friend at Samford, and possibly one of the most genuine people I've ever met. And it's not just because he stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone loved Nolan because of who he was, which was honest.
There aren't many of those at Samford. Honest people.
I tried to be "honest". But I couldn't stop myself from needing to be likable. I wanted both, but being true to one's self and being liked by most people isn't easily achieved.
Thus, freshmen year of Samford, I flailed about like a Magikarp. Splashing. Not making any impression at all, not even to myself.
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