My sister and I had another fight last night. Not the bad kind. The kind where we both just wanted to scream at each other and felt so much better afterward. While we were starting to cool down, my sister asked me why I can't ever seem to just calm it down and go "incognetus", as we say, while at school. Here's a brief rundown of what I said.
I'm pretty impervious nowadays to what people say to me. I mean, some things might upset me, and I might go home later and have a bit of a cry about it, but, you know, that's expected. So yeah, I might like my rainbow socks and my black lipstick and my fishnets, and I don't care what people say anymore. They're not attacking me. They're just jealous kids, being dickheads, frightened of what they don't understand. But there's an overwhelming amount of people who admire me for what I do - because I just don't seem to care about what people say about me. Boys like to spread rumours that I'm a lesbian. "Good." I say. "That means I won't have to contemplate breeding with you."
What matters more to me, is those other kids who get picked on. They're not picked on, when I'm around. Those poor kids, who aren't as used to it as me. The nice, quiet ones who get bullied to hell. The kids who want so much to be goth, or some other alt. fashion, but their every attempt is beaten down by others. If I'm there, being me all over that, then the bullies are distracted, and the poor kids who can't do anything, who are scared and alone, have some relief.
Come on, guys. Pick on me first. I don't give a shit what you say to me, so leave those kids alone, and come after someone who doesn't give a shit.
Also: some juniors threatened to rape me the other day. I just kind of stared and said, "I have a ten-year-old nephew taller than you. Can you even get hard? Go away."
Much love, guys.
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