Misunderstood

Misunderstood

I was sitting between the milk chocolate buttons and the smarties in a gigantic sweet shop, suddenly feeling sorry for all the sweets. How long had they been there? How long would they be there? A young girl grabbed a scoopful of the delicious delights and for the rest it was bad luck. Almost like how you feel when you are picked last for the school hockey team, and you know that when you are eventually picked, it’s because you are the leftover that nobody wants.

That’s how I feel about my life. I’m the odd one out. The one that can never fit in. I’m always the one that nobody wants. Everyone always pushes me to the side, looking for a better person. It will always be the same. Originality will always be picked on. Just because I am different, many people take one look at me and back off. Just because I speak my mind, and I’m not afraid to stand out, people think I’m weird. If you ask me, I think normal’s boring.

I have friends. Not too many, but I prefer to have a few really close friends than millions of people who I hardly get time to speak to. All my friends are different. We don’t have anything in common, apart from the fact that we all feel like we don’t, and can’t fit in. People only call us freaks because they can’t understand us. What is to understand? We don’t want to be clones; we want to do things our own way, not the way others think we should do things. Is that so wrong?

I have black hair, with purple tips; I think it looks cool, no matter what other people may think. I also have a lip ring, and I dress in hippy clothes. So what if I prefer vintage to fashion? It doesn’t mean that I’m wrong. Older people think I am a trouble maker, and that I go around smoking. Younger people think I’m a head-banger, a grunger. They’re all wrong.

Why should I get picked on for having the courage to be ‘just the average person’? I don’t do it to get the attention. I want anything but that, what with everyone looking at me and pointing. Appearances are deceiving. I prefer eyeliner to lip-gloss but that doesn’t make me weird. People can’t see me for what I am inside, simply because they can’t be bothered to get to know me.

I’m concerned with world issues, and I absolutely love animals. Why can’t people just go to the effort, to see me as I am? Maybe then they can judge me, but not before they even know me. Then it wouldn’t be so hard to understand me.