*Lola sighed and considered for a moment. She wasn't doing a good job. Explaining herself wasn't her thing. Not... really. Especially not when she was already annoyed at things.*
I don't fight, I'm not a doctor, I can't build anything amazing or figure out how to fix this city. Get anyone home. I'm a dumb girl from a cushy life with a dad that loves her. I can cook, and I can try to make people feel better.
I haven't had as hard a life as anyone, so all I can hope to do is find ways to help people calm down, feel better, and try to be happy. But what's good about making others feel better if I can't do anything for myself. Looking good, looking like I want, helps me. And I hope that looking like I know what I'm doing means when I talk to someone else, try to help them... they listen.
What's the good of survival alone? Without happiness to make surviving worth anything?
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I don't fight, I'm not a doctor, I can't build anything amazing or figure out how to fix this city. Get anyone home. I'm a dumb girl from a cushy life with a dad that loves her. I can cook, and I can try to make people feel better.
I haven't had as hard a life as anyone, so all I can hope to do is find ways to help people calm down, feel better, and try to be happy. But what's good about making others feel better if I can't do anything for myself. Looking good, looking like I want, helps me. And I hope that looking like I know what I'm doing means when I talk to someone else, try to help them... they listen.
What's the good of survival alone? Without happiness to make surviving worth anything?