Who has made it so abundantly clear to human-kind that it is okay to not have boundaries? Who let us become this way? So unclear about anything, so confused and vulnerable.
No one let us. And that's the problem. No one ever said anything to us because the assumption was that every one had common sense and could determine right from wrong, because we all saw the Power Puff Girls and that made it completely crystal. Pink and Green and Blue and Yellow is nice and great, while Black, Purple and Brown are evil and filthy and revolting. The problem?
After the years of Gossip Girl, 90210, Dexter and Revenge, the lines have become so blurred that everything is wrong now. Black is something no one should have on their skin, but rather on their hoadies, same with Brown. Purple is about as emotional and depressing as that loner sitting alone at the end of the Cafetaria wearing the very colour and Pink and Green are considered to be colours that measure the masculinity of a man. These are unwritten rules that somehow apply to our every day lives. Racist, Homophobic and Sexist slurs are all the rage now. Literally.
Whether it be Superheros or Dora the Explorer, there is no difference between the two. Not in our world. A week ago I was baby-sitting my little cousins and when one of his friends admitted to liking the Mexican explorer's adventures, he was shunned for a whole twenty minutes. It was horrible. Having said that, I'm a Superman fan. I bought some Superman merchandise from a store and I took to a Facebook status, sharing my happiness with the world.
Well, it seems that any self expression that leads to happiness is condemned.
I got a number of hate comments, a few from someone I had thought to be a really good friend of mine for a while, too. They claimed I was weird and needed therapy. Because buying a Superman Tee shirt clearly screams, "I'M MENTALLY ILL. PLEASE PUT ME IN THE LOONY BIN."
On that very same status, our wonderful, kind, lovely, accepting friends started making fun of my friend, specifically for his skin colour, which is nothing but normal. Immaculately normal. Perfectly normal, even. They questioned how calling him cute would be very awkward for every one. I'd like to say I intervened. I'd love to say I made a risky -yet heroic act of rebellion and told them F*CK off. But I didnt. I'm not Harry Potter. I'm not Charlie from 'The Perks Of Being A WallFlower'. I'm not the shy male lead of a John Green novel. I'm human, not paper. I'm human not imagination. I'm human, so I should start being treated more like one and less like paper, which is easily desposable and more easily destroyed. I just made a small comment that hinted at bullying and diverted the conversation.
I have flaws, and plenty at that. I'm insecure and vulnerable and confused and nervous most of the time. The wrong words, the wrong actions. I could end up being the loner at the end of the cafetaria dressed in purple. Love is easy to give out but not so easily returned. Ridicule is something we will all be prone to at one point or the other. But to be put through it over something as trivial as a Superman cup? is that what we've come to? Can we not buy socks without having something make fun of the colour and size and make of it, when it isnt really funny at all? We're just meant to sit it out and laugh. High School has many misconceptions. We are not an institute filled with Regine George's and Gretchen Wiener's. We are an institute where you see people and they see you, but you never really see them and they can never really see you. High School is something completely different to what our teachers and parents think. It is not physical war fare that affects us. Its the emotional and mental war fare that does. Should I wear this colour or that? This whitening cream or that? Gel or no gel? Shit I chose the wrong colour. I'm not white and they hate me. I put too much gel on.
Eventually, you think people hate you so much that you begin to hate yourself, except that's ridiculous. You can't be hated for wearing the wrong colour to school. School is something, for us unlucky dozen, that has students who don't understand words like 'respect' and 'loyalty' and 'friendship' or 'love.' You find someone with interests that mirror yours. In other words, you take what you get and stick with it for the rest of your academic life, hoping not to be brandished a loser too many times.
That. That, my darlings, is the secret to High School. Not eternal beauty or a boaming personality. The truth is, beauty isnt the trick. It's how you use the beauty. And as for a boaming personality? Well. Lets just put it this way. Butterflies can't see their wings, so they can't see how truly beautiful they are. Everyone else can, though. People are like that, too.
Only they are more blind to the uglyness they hold than the beauty.
