Differences Between Myself And I

March 22, 2012
By OrenK PLATINUM, Flushing, New York
OrenK PLATINUM, Flushing, New York
21 articles 0 photos 12 comments

Favorite Quote:
"My teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said happy. She said I didn't understand the assignment. I said she didn't understand life."- John Lennon

I snapped.

The thought of being constantly judged by my acquaintances caused the long, gruesome conflict between my head and heart to come to an end. My mood was no longer peachy. The gates to gain my friendship had been guarded with caution.

As I was walking to school the next day, I felt my legs trudge along, scraping the wet concrete from the gloomy rain that unfortunately collaborated with my mood. My body hesitated to move on forward. I hadn't brushed my hair that morning and I knew deep down I was afraid to be noticed just for my differences. My glasses were askew because I'd accidentally stepped on them after my epiphany that caused my unwilling mood. I didn't care. The thought of dolling myself up each day made me feel so facile. I didn't need people to love me for portraying the perfect look in this society. So on to school I marched with confidence. My plan was to shun my popularity. I was done living that social life. I needed friends tha t would help me prosper, not set me back.


I stormed into school, ignoring the stares I received in a consecutive fashion. My energy intimidated my peers. An acquaintance of mine, Jay, walked up to me with a grin, trying to contain the hysterical laughter he wished to belt out. "Dude, you seriously got to get a haircut", he said. I walked passed him, brushing his shoulder, indicating that I wish to have nothing to do with him. This situation kept occurring throughout the day. Strangely, the more people I disposed of, the more acquainted I seemed to feel.

I ate lunch with myself. I began to obsess over how many different cliques there had been in the cafeteria. I was pondering because it was as if I didn't matter to my former friends anymore. They seemed to have moved on.


She walked up and sat down next to me. She, the girl who had influenced it all. Scarlet. "What are you thinking of now?", she asked. Her weird choice of questioning made me enjoy her company so much more. "I'm trying to decide what is real and what is not", I muttered in a depressingly monotone voice. My food hadn't been touched. I couldn't eat around people who made me feel unwelcome. "How's that working out for you?", she asked with a sound of interest in her voice. I was shocked when I noticed this is the most her and I talked. She was trying to read me, understand me. I've loved her since I've met her. "Nothing is real. Nothing is exactly one hundred percent true", I answered with my chin rested on my folded arms. I tried to act casual, like her presence didn't matter. "Would you like to go on a date with me?", the question shot up in the sky along with my body. "I think I'd like that", said Scarlet. My face had her name written all over it. I couldn't hide the blood that had entered my face in an instant. "C-cool", I stuttered from excitement. As she got up to leave she turned around and added, "You know why I think you're beautiful? Because you think differently, and you act differently. It's so much easier to notice beauty when it's the rare kind."


I noticed birds chirping in a beautiful tone on my way home from school that day despite the fact that the sky locked away the sun behind the big, gray clouds, waiting for their command to release the water they contain. I noticed a street performer playing the saxophone. He seemed like the happiest man in the world. Like this was his calling. The sight of it made me feel secure about myself, and my future.

I continued on down the sidewalk, listening to the words and music of Bob Dylan through my headphones. His words soothed my soul. I had the volume on the verge of its maximum potential. I couldn't hear a thing other than that unique voice of his. Not even the hit to the head I got from behind me.

I turned my body on the ground to look at the individual who greeted me with the blow to the head. "Sup, b****? Say, you got nice headphones there. You wouldn't mind if I held on to your ipod and headphones, right?", the individual said in a way that made him entertain himself. As I handed over the items he requested, he began to pull on my hair, as if weeds in a lawn. "And fix your god damned hair, looking like a damn hippie and s***", he added, and then simply to satisfy himself, I was punched in the face once more before he took off with my headphones and ipod.


The theft of my ipod and headphones didn't matter much to me. I could care less for materialistic objects. It's the words he said that just made want to give in to societies pleasure.

I went into my bathroom and took out my father's electric shaver. I glanced at it as if it was my biggest enemy. I turned on the machine. I didn't know the buzzing sound would be the sound of the end for me. The machine touch my hair, then my scalp.

The next day didn't let me exist. I wasn't in existence . The weight off of my head made me want to fly away from it all. I received looks of accomplishment from everyone. All were looking at me. All except Scarlet. I guess she didn't find the beauty in me anymore. I lost my friends. They all moved on. they never really needed or wanted me. I lost Scarlet. The only person that really mattered to me. I lost myself....

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