Truth. It stings like a bitch. When asking oneself, in all dead honesty, any sort of question we have to be truthful to our heart because, if we're not, we're not real. Last night, being once again put on a pedestal for the plague of high-nosed girls who still act as if they were still in high school, I was put to the test. Could I endure the constant scrutiny of condescending glances from these people summoning me into their clique?
It seemed relentless, the touching, the whispering, the pretentious acts of kindness. The main dragon temptress, with her golden locks and skin-tight jeans, she's the one you should be nice to because if not, well you're no longer considered viable material for a friend. Act like her best friend, and you're gold. Dance with her, hug her, hell, even kiss her for anyone who cares. As long as you care for superficial behavior and plastic attitudes, you'll fit in. Unless. Unless you've grown up with these girls, integrated into their social heirarchy as a male friend. A friend who, even though he's always the Designated Driver, doesn't admit to wanting to let loose and join in on the fun. He plays it nice, unassuming in that none of these girls would ever be interested in him other than a "friend." It's just too bad he doesn't know that, it's too bad that these girls have led him into believing the new girl at the party is interested in "that" way. They root him on, saying go for it, she seems to like you because you both shared a moment of laughter in the kitchen. She MUST be interested, right? Except when you tell her how you feel, she tells you she doesn't feel the same way and you're back to square one. Alone, rejected, and feeling like a fool. All because of what?
Sure, the pretty girl who you shared a moment with was never interested in you like "that" and you actually believed your "friends" when they said go for it, what do you have to loose? Apparently everything, your dignity, your self-preserveration. It's enough to make you doubt life and your reason for living. To be constantly put up for disapproval from the opposite sex, I couldn't imagine what that would do to a person. You reel your heart into the ocean of sharks, waiting for the next opportunity to eat you alive. And when you finally realize you're tired of this routine, people tell you to lighten up, don't be so serious. To them I say "Go fuck yourself."
I was the girl who was put on parade for these catalytics; I was yet another casualty lost in the line of fire for a man who clearly shouldn't be hanging around these pyrotechnics. None of them can identify with what he has to go through in the scary world of dating. They're just plastics wanting to play human. And here's the victim, saying once again he knew this would happen the minute he opened his heart to another shark. But I am not a shark, I'm more of a dolphin who's gotten lost in a sea of sharks. I just want to eat fish and make dolphin noises, not bite people and tear their limbs off. I told him that I'm not a superficial human being, I'll be honest with someone from the get go. I'm not out to hurt anyone but life being the way it is, casualties are a sure thing. It's not my fault I look this way and it's not his fault he looks the way he does. Genes can be a bitch. But so can girls. Ain't that the truth?
It seemed relentless, the touching, the whispering, the pretentious acts of kindness. The main dragon temptress, with her golden locks and skin-tight jeans, she's the one you should be nice to because if not, well you're no longer considered viable material for a friend. Act like her best friend, and you're gold. Dance with her, hug her, hell, even kiss her for anyone who cares. As long as you care for superficial behavior and plastic attitudes, you'll fit in. Unless. Unless you've grown up with these girls, integrated into their social heirarchy as a male friend. A friend who, even though he's always the Designated Driver, doesn't admit to wanting to let loose and join in on the fun. He plays it nice, unassuming in that none of these girls would ever be interested in him other than a "friend." It's just too bad he doesn't know that, it's too bad that these girls have led him into believing the new girl at the party is interested in "that" way. They root him on, saying go for it, she seems to like you because you both shared a moment of laughter in the kitchen. She MUST be interested, right? Except when you tell her how you feel, she tells you she doesn't feel the same way and you're back to square one. Alone, rejected, and feeling like a fool. All because of what?
Sure, the pretty girl who you shared a moment with was never interested in you like "that" and you actually believed your "friends" when they said go for it, what do you have to loose? Apparently everything, your dignity, your self-preserveration. It's enough to make you doubt life and your reason for living. To be constantly put up for disapproval from the opposite sex, I couldn't imagine what that would do to a person. You reel your heart into the ocean of sharks, waiting for the next opportunity to eat you alive. And when you finally realize you're tired of this routine, people tell you to lighten up, don't be so serious. To them I say "Go fuck yourself."
I was the girl who was put on parade for these catalytics; I was yet another casualty lost in the line of fire for a man who clearly shouldn't be hanging around these pyrotechnics. None of them can identify with what he has to go through in the scary world of dating. They're just plastics wanting to play human. And here's the victim, saying once again he knew this would happen the minute he opened his heart to another shark. But I am not a shark, I'm more of a dolphin who's gotten lost in a sea of sharks. I just want to eat fish and make dolphin noises, not bite people and tear their limbs off. I told him that I'm not a superficial human being, I'll be honest with someone from the get go. I'm not out to hurt anyone but life being the way it is, casualties are a sure thing. It's not my fault I look this way and it's not his fault he looks the way he does. Genes can be a bitch. But so can girls. Ain't that the truth?
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