Intermediate/Advanced/Bilingual/fluent... /or don't be, be or not to be in an existencial 1+1=3 freak crisis shitting my pants

I expect too much. Beyond simple and basic understanding and eloquence in forming sentences. I've been trying to hold back on rhetorics. I'm not selling anything here. My life is just stumped. All I can do is try to keep up with the level of abilities of someone my age. But I kinda want to specialize in some business vocabulary definitely. Being able to understand is not enough

• There is no test. Not really. Am I ok? 

Besides my friends always complementing what I'm good at. And yeah I am good. Back and front, from the side and below I can get across a rock but not move mountains...

1. Like taking candy from a kid. Like taking a kid from a mother.  Like not ever getting to take mom brain into action. Poop schedules and feeding times.

Sigh... bad signs and being in love with no one in particular. Just the idea that things will get better if I keep hoping and going on. I'm not going through a lot of guys, I'm running away literally from all of them. There isn't a better on the horizon, so it would be why I kept changing partners. I used to think I always had someone... a friend, yeah. A follower, a stalker, the quietest person in the party whom I'd bully because they kept getting quieter the funnier I thought I was.
I don't have substance yet I'm so real it's disgusting. 

A broken mirror, chakras flowing freely, an aura, energies and vibrations or whatever me instead of some sickness. Looking inward and being antisocial. Not having learnt social interractions. But they don't know me! Why does everyone hate me? Why do I especially cared what people think who I cross paths with? I don't know how to express myself. Not when they ask first the dif-F-icult questions. I draw from my past and myself being bullied or name-called. My own fuckitall attitude, that if I ever had sex I'd end up overdoing it. Now being a rundown cunt... a woman like a man.

Not a fan of reality are we?

I will hunt that smell down that drifts to my flat once in a while and kick it in the butt when I find the source!!! FUCK. Sweet arse. Hell's own bastard's bitch sing-a-long-time...*thuds* Life imitates art. Your brain on music. Don't fix broken. Smile if you want to go faster. It's raining m...pox xDXDX