Life sucks? Not mine.
I am sorry, this will probably take the form of a rant but people keep getting on my nerves complaining about how their life totally sucks because of this or that. When I was eight years old, my grandma took me to India and Nepal. I was a bit worried when she packed a hundred pens I didn't understand why she wanted to take these as presents. Pens, presents? Then we got there. We travelled on the dirtiest roads to the smallest villages and all the children kept asking for pens. When I was 14 I went to Bulgaria. Travelling to and from the hotel by car I saw desolation, girls as young as me begging or selling their bodies. When I was 15 I went to Romania with my parents, in the only county that isn't mentionned in tourist guides. The children there played in mud and wore ragged clothes, they were the happiest children on earth when I gave them all I had on me, Kinder Eggs. When I was 16 I went in Zambia to teach in a small school. I packed so many pens, clothes,