Today's hairstyle is dedicated to Tenebris in Lux!
Today was a pretty reg'luh day. Nothing out of the ordinary. Didn't get there til recess, went and swapped my skirts for bigger ones (they go to my knees now). I have decided to just kind of...not go to D&T. I went to the library instead, and had to resist to write "MR. SHINE - HIM DIAMOND" in small letters on the wall. Instead, I responded to some graffiti in a bathroom ("so and so is a slut who something something she steals boyfriends" "I love how you're blaming her and not the boyfriend who did the cheating. Logic?").
I then went to art. This was a problem.
I walked in, cheery as a bushel of apples, and the class was full of bogans. Things quickly deteriorated. She kept writing things about me being a freak on the board and pieces of paper, and then pegged a pink texta at me and hit me in the eye because I asked what was wrong with being a freak. I really don't understand why.
Because, really, does being comfortable in my own skin make me a freak? She decided she was going to call me a cunt bitch freak whatever whilst sitting in the windowsill, being a rude cunt, swearing to the teacher, slacking off, breaking school property and just generally being an unpleasant person. And her name is "Billy Joe". Yes. Her. So tell me, Billy Joe, are you that threatened by me that you have to resort to going around and telling the whole year that I'm a total bitch and throwing things? Because a few other people decided to come find out for themselves, and they decided quite differently. Are you so insecure and have such low self esteem that you have to act tough and obnoxious? I'm sorry your dad never hugged you, but really, get over yourself. I don't value myself by what you think. I don't value myself by how many cones I can smoke or how many friends I have. I don't value myself by who I date. I value myself by my actions and my abilities.
My abilities. That's something else. Darling, when you have spent sixteen and a half years nearly completely unable to communicate to the outside world, spending every second of your life unable to tell people of your basic needs, and be unable to tell people, "this is me", and have to dress in a certain way to feel the person you can never tell people about, to show people, rather than tell them, then, and only then, you may comment. When you have suffered, and really suffered, then you may say what you do and don't like. The world is outside of you, and to be honest, it doesn't really care about you.
There. There's that done. Here's my hair from today.
Curly and pinned up in lolita pigtails. My sister's blue/burgandy jacket with crows on it. Fuckyeah.
Me and the Doctor grooving out after school.
I also wore the hot pink gloves I bought yesterday, my longest rainbow socks and my pink and black legwarmers (and fishnets too, of course).
Much love. :3