Your hairs bristle up in annoyance trying hard to be spikes that sends one scuttling in pain on contact a lot like a puffer phish. From pale green, veins turn emerald as they visibly pulsate. Your ears shut down with a howl as the air rushes out and the passage is closed to cocoon you from the upcoming onslaught, the you-are-a-fledgling-and-therefore-a-retard session. One sharp intake of breath is all you have time for to sustain you when the creepy crawly voices wash over you. It begins. You hit the fastforward. The squeaky voices rattle away, hammering you with supposed concerns, their all-knowing words result in gashes, wounds ooze a slimy green – a defense mechanism the body undertakes to get rid of the sludge. Forcing your cheeks to yield to a dumb thank-you-now-I-run-to-the-loo kinda smile you walk away telling yourself to breathe in breathe out. First thing you do is get into the bathroom, stand under the shower and scrub it all off with your dead epidermis.
As annoying as such talks are there’s no point in focusing frustration on the boring conforming do-gooders. They actually are the sober metamorphosed from the once bitten twice-shy horde. But what the heack...they are part of the popular system...one foot here and one foot there case.
Point is what is reputation. Reputation is a social construct so that all of us can adhere and live in sordid social freaking harmony cause it’s easier when you have rules cause you’ve always had rules. Staying in is always easier than running parallel cause the parallel road aint in existence...supposedly. The biggest shit of all is that this reputation thingy is not for maintaining political correctness, to truly be secular or anything worthwhile. All that jazz remains all that jazz…ideal. What they need this so called reputation for is to keep us all freaking tied down so that no one really gets one-up. Not even one-up in social life transition from daily morning visits to the beach to daily evening visits for kadalai. You can’t say you drink, can’t say some wild thing cause you’re in a wild mood, can’t talk openly of having tried out bisexuality…even if it’s only in your head. I go down = we all go down = reputation
Culture is trivialized. Culture is a metamorphosis of principles, attitudes and not bickering boxed ideas! Think we should start off by spelling B-E! Stop crapping about those who can have a bloody good time apart from their work and can do work as work and a damn good job of it! Stick to your periphery and don’t enter personal life without permission. Get your manners right! Trespassers will be prosecuted! Don’t allude. You’re not good at the finer qualities of rhetoric. Cause one, you’re stuck; two, you don’t know how to help yourself BE; three, you’re boring; four, you’re pathetic at being the model guardian cause you've got your priorities wrong!
I have dark lips and therefore I smoke. Wrong. You going out for a smoke? You wanna smoke? Well, this I got from people who eye girls who smoke with a lil derision, label her flighty, easy, etc. I appear to be a lil hoity toity or so it seems. Not once have they taken my No for what it really is. I don’t smoke cause smoking is deadly and you have to be so gone in the head to make a habit out of it. But they take my no to be NO! I’m a GIRL!
Sick and tired of sex determining lil miniscule things like visits to a tea kadai! Bugger off sexists, token women, jealous snapping guppy fish wallowing in shallow pools of waste!
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