But even if she never said that I probably would have guessed. I constantly feel like I don't belong anywhere and the world is rejecting me.
I'm a factory mishap. A defective. Recalled product. Damaged goods. Glitch. An accident. Misfit. Just wrong.
When i think about humanity and where we all come from, as in our maker or "god" or what have you or whatever you choose to believe, I like to imagine a "human factory" of sorts, that is exactly what it sounds like. In my head it's kind of like a car factory but with body parts. And on the day I came into existence, the floor supervisor was on lunch break when the technician fell asleep at the control panel and the machine spun wildly out of control and I was sort of pooped out and escaped into the world much like Frankenstein's Monster did. Only my life is far less charming than the classic novel.
If everybody exists for a reason and has a purpose in life to fulfill, why am I so useless?