Fitting in is a funny thing, and there are a few ways to think of it. My favorite is when you find a group of friends you fit in, like a missing puzzle piece. Though I strongly dislike the “fitting in” that is shown throughout our society today. It screams “be like this, perfect”: no one ever reaches perfect so why do so many try? This thing called “fitting in” is an addiction that many can’t shake. They get nose jobs, and get a new accent instead of finding people who except who they are as a person. It’s a tragedy, some people have great smiles and personalities but they cover them up with eyeliner, wide and heavy like the Mississippi. Or put on new clothes and face, and act their life away.
“All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players,
They have their exits and entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts”
(An excerpt from Shakespeare’s The Seven Ages of Men). Shakespeare wrote this poem and it explains what I am talking about. We are all guilty at one point or another of acting to fit in, some just never stop acting. Those people look happy on the outside and are crying inside, never to fulfill their real dream because of all of the fake ones they made. There two paths for fitting in: the one without a map where you find your own way, or the map which leads you into dangers unknown. You can swap anytime; it’s your life and choice. I hope you know there is such a thing as a stupid choice.