abel baldwinscared of my own image, scared of my own immaturity.
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“I don’t frown at people, this is a neutral expression.”
“You probably shouldn’t frown at people while you’re walking by.”
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“Okay yeah I agree on that one, I haven’t gotten a hair cut in a while. But I do match! I’m wearing black with blue, and black matches with everything-- or whatever you humans say.”
“Well for starters you might want to get your hair cut, it looks like it’s starting to grow out. Also, you could try to actually match, blue is still blue no matter what shade it is. Ya know?”
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“How am I supposed to show manners when I’m not talking to them, let alone not even making eye contact. I do have manners in both of those categories, so I don’t know what it is.”
“Might I suggest manners? Those often aid in winning over the trust of your fellow man. Or failing in such matters, maintaining a state of cleanliness is expected as well.”
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“I haven’t been anywhere besides the city that I’m from, so maybe that’s it. ‘Cause I know I don’t smell bad.”
“It’s probably not personal. People in this town are… weird. Or maybe, I don’t know, my nose is blocked and you smell. Not sure.”

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“Anyone got any tips on how to not look like a complete ass? Cause everyone that’s been in my presence today literally like-- shied away from me. All I did was walk past them.”
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