Today at school [Only two half days of that horrid place left!] we saw a play that the musically and dramatically talented people in my grade put on. It was great. One part I remember best is this one boy, he is one grade lower than everyone else, and was A BOY. Keep in mind only two boys were in the play, and he had a solo. He sang about teenagers and love. It was amazing. He was the only one to have a solo. Everyone else was to scared to go out in front of 700 people and sing. He was amazing. Amazing. It touched and inspired me, about how you shouldn’t care what people think about you or if they are talking about you and how you should just go out and do what you love to do – which for him appears to be singing.Remember how I said only two boys were in the play? Well there is a reason for that. Where I live there are only these social status levels:
Jock – Boy who is mean, picks on nerds and spocks, and basically runs and controls all the sports. Hangs out and snogs cheerleaders.
Cheerleader – Hangs out with jocks. is loud and bossy. Popular group. Normally they are the ones smoking in the bathroom and wearing all the dumb makeup.
Nerd – The people who are not any of the above, or act….like a dork. No other way to put it.
Spock – Basically a level two nerd.
Other – Someone new or extremely quite so you can’t tell what he/she is.I’m currently part of the nerd group – it’s the group that has the most fun! Why? Because we have no reason to care about what we’re wearing, what we say, or what our friends are wearing. We are individuals, we are our own persons, where the jocks and cheerleaders have to care about appearance, and not so much about grades. We are the futures of America and the world – and the jocks are the ones working for us, and the cheerleaders are the ones who will be working at the Play Boy mansion, or at a bar somewhere waiting for tips – FROM US.[Note: Do not get offended, these are generalizations made from what I’ve seen around school.]Back to my day:Blehh, more parent trouble. Those bitches. My dad is like “And don’t bother coming down stairs, I don’t want to see your stupid head”. Yes, he really said that.The only reason and thing keeping me from running away or dying is the computer, books, my poetry and writings, and my Cat. And my cat is 18 years old and will not be breathing her delicate breaths much longer. Poor baby.That’s all for now, thanks for reading.<3Amber