I hear this a lot. Sometimes it feels like we're all just waiting for that brilliant popsicle specialist who will never return. In that event, there's a single solution:

We have to make some floating popsicles.

Cool names are a curse.

They're either the icing on the cake of your amazing self, or the persona you cling to as you try desperately not to fade from existence.

My name is Raine, I /cannot/ control the weather, and I am firmly stuck with the latter.

I actually applied here even before I "died". My left hand wrote the brochure all over my science notes, so I did feel a bit obligated. Perhaps I'll have to go back there to guide the very same hand.

My first day here was alright. Nobody seemed to know I was there, except the ESPies who would whip around and make two seconds of intense eye contact. That kinda scared me off from the whole social aspect of this school.

That's alright, though. I don't want to talk to anybody or fall in love or join Mock Trial until I'm real again. I came here having lost track of some fundamental part of a real person and now I have to somehow get it back.

Have you ever met someone who was only a construct of a powerful collective imagination? Since you're reading, I guess you have. Thank you for holding me up.