At 14 you're thrown into the jungle- this whole novel lifestyle that you've only seen on the screens.
And it's who you're with. It's who you're not with.. It's your hair. It's your makeup. It's what you wear. And don't you dare dig into your middle school wardrobe because all you've got is that passing millisecond in the hall to make your impression. Where this impression goes, I don't know..
Too much eyeliner- whore. Short hair- lesbian. Blasting music- punk. Flipflops- gay. Sagging pants- punk. So-much-cleavage-I-can-basically-see-your-nipples- desperate. All black- goth. Jersey- jock. Cheerleading uniform- prep. You know what glasses I'm talking about- hipster.
Sigh. I literally did just walk thru the hall in my most angry, judgemental, bitchy disposition, labeled every innocent I saw, and recorded it. I feel really bad thinking about it so hard, but it's kind of... What we do.
I don't exactly know how this started and why we do it, but that how our little adolescent thought process has been wired.
Highschool is scary! We're all catty little things, and you're never safe from a label. And I don't think that's ever going to change. But you know what can change?
YOUR ATTITUDE! :D *convert every insult into complement*
Taylor, oh god, optimism...
No... But, I'm just saying it's your decision to give a damn about what a stranger thinks of you.
Like, I'll choose not to care about whether you think my cargo pants make me look twelve, or that you think I'm gay because I hold my friends' hands,
or that you think I'm a dork because I'm in orchestra(hahaha wellll....)...
...because *I* know what kind of person I am, and I'm proud of it. So why should I let some exterior opinion tamper with that?
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