My country is weird. And specially my city.
Gossip, other people’s lives, problems, and affairs are part of this cities nourishment. Provided by those who make the effort of fitting into stereotypes and molds in our concave society. If you meet the standards everything is great, but the part when you slip is where people have fun.
“Her hair is so beautiful and perfect! I bet those are just hair extensions.”
Yeah, that’s what people love… Men and women the same, all they want is to be right on what they think the reality is for other people. we all believe to be experts on other people’s lives from three puzzle pieces we see every day, oblivious that usually those puzzles can be made out 1000 pieces.
It can be tiring, annoying and frustrating.
Tiring, because you need to make a conscious effort to fit ad always balance on the thin thread of acceptance, knowing the long list of things you cannot do if you want to fit and have a decent life. because you obviously can’t die your hair an unnatural looking color and expect to get a job. Annoying, because you know how ridiculous those restrictions can be, and regardless of whatever, the proper functioning of your brain is what actually decides if you’re qualified or “a good person”. after all, why is it so important to act like a pack of sheep and do and say the same things as everyone else? Frustrating, because as much as everyone, even your own family, makes such a great effort to be the perfect ones, you know you can’t do it.
I can’t sit down and dedicate my life to look good in the eyes of others, because I won’t live a happy life that I’m proud to call mine. I can’t buy a car and pretend I’m rich like my family just because people expect me to, not only because it’s out of my means, but because that’s not how I should do things and I know it.
But that’s what happens when you live in a small town, isn’t it?