Relevant to about 98 percent of me.
Seriously. Welcome to Happily Ever After, Rosaline.
You live in a united and prosperous Verona. And you don’t have to hang out with people who get married within hours of meeting.
You won the freaking Shakespeare tragedy lottery.
p.s. I hear that Paris guy ain’t half bad. Oh, he’s dead, too? YEAH MAYBE YOU SHOULD JUST COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS THEN.
Clearly the only man in that play for me is Mercutio. Oh, he’s dead, too?
Might I recommend Benvolio?
Having one of those moments where I feel like I will never amount to anything. Like I have no talent, and who am I kidding? Like moving to Los Angeles is the worst idea in the world, and shouldn’t I just go home and get a job downtown and make enough money to live?
I’m feeling like I want to be funny, I want to be creative, and I want to be happy, but, simply, I am none of those things.
I want to be someone other than who I am.
That’s all I’ll say for right now.