It's just so weird sometimes, you know? When you play with all the children in the snow and suddenly a snowball hits you, and they're just laughing and playing, and you want to cry because a snowball just hit your face, but you can't, because everyone's laughing and the girl who threw it blew a kiss at you, and you just sit there dumbfounded and don't know what to do, and you want to cry because still, a snowball hit you in the face, but you just can't, because you know they don't wan't you to cry, all the other kids are playing and laughing why don't you? So if you're lucky enough you just suck it up, but sometimes you're just too young and tired and inexperienced and you just cry and make a fool of yourself and everyone's watching, and trying to talk back and say you want to go or lie and say you have to go but maybe it's not really a lie is just too much for you.
But you're old enough, aren't you? You can just go on and play like nothing ever happened. And in a matter of hours it will all be forgotten.
They wan't me strong. I want me strong. They, I want me strong and able to lead and show the way and know what to do and say next, and be bloody responsible, and be the firm shoulder to cry on and not the shoulder crying. The poor old weakling is supposed to toughen up and have a charming girl rest in his chest, but he just can't. He's not a man enough. And he wants to listen to all those queer theorists who say it doesn't really matter, but he knows that just won't do, and it really does matter.
And what kind of a man am I, really?
If you can't read Pushkin, and you have a 90+ average Bagrut score, and you don't play the piano or at least some instrument, and you can't actually read a partiture, or you're not half the bookworm you make the impression you are, or speak at least one more language besides English and Hebrew fluently, then get the devil out of our club, young pretender you caca.
I apologise for this sudden surge of emoness and insecurity, but it's been lying heavily on my chest for a while now. My only excuse is that it might provoke some thought in a reader or two.
Unum diem...
(Unrelated post scriptum: Goths, Emo kids, Indie kids, and Japanese teenagers should all join together and bring capes back into fashion.)
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