We're all just a little flaky.

Through a response to a previous entry I found exactly what I've been looking for:

"Well, most men have bound their eyes with one or another handkerchief, and attached themselves to some one of these communities of opinion. This conformity makes them not false in a few particulars, authors of a few lies, but false in all particulars."

--Emerson's Self-Reliance (excerpt)

I found myself bombarded by three very hostile situations today; each one testing my patience beyond all conceivable limits....and they all occurred before lunch even began.

The first attack: poetry club, 12:00 p.m.

The amount of stupid that circulated in our relatively spacious classroom was beyond conceivable imagination--it was everywhere.

"Can I write with a brown pencil?"
"Like...a poem?"
"I don't rememberrr..."
"Uh, I can't tall ANYONE what I did...."
"I don't rememberrr!"
"I drank."
"How about a purple pen?"
"I did too many illegal things."
...and what I think may have been my favorite:
"All I did was play video games and blow things up."

...This was my first attack of gorilla warfare of the day; hostile, hot and angry.

I always find that it is after breaks people become most lost in perfecting their image. Attending a private day/boarding school presents a difficult predicament for those striving to create a name for themselves: where do we find the time? Breaks present an ample amount of time in which we're free to create ourselves however we please. We may drink illegally, smoke contraband, have sex rampantly, "blow things up"...but even if we do everything we're kept from doing while confined at school (allegedly), how do we make it known? Evidently it's between the hours of noon and one at Montverde Academy, inside our very own Poetry Club. This disgusting flaunting of the self is not only saddening but repulsive. The content of ones life is laid upon a desk, leaving no detail unknown. All that we seem to worry about is what our neighbor thinks--has it really become that important to "belong"?? And does no one realize this painting of the self is only label-confining crap?

Dazed, but alive, I left for lunch.

Before Lunch ended I was expected at another highly productive NHS meeting.

This was attack number two.

"Does anyone know his study hall?
(all) "no."
"You, do you know his study hall?"
(intended target) "no."
"Do you know his study hall?"
--"I don't think anyone know his study hall?"
"Does anyone know his study hall?"
(all) "no."

By this point, I caught the pattern. A few more painful repetitive questions and we'd "moved on."
This can't last long.

"Now, concerning the hour-forms. See this area that says "Your Name"? What do you think you write after it in the blank space?"

Please, stop me if I'm being unreasonable, but are we not the "National Honor Society?" Hand picked for our intelligence and our outstanding common sense? We're supposed to be the smart kids, right?

silence. Dead Silence.

"YOUR NAME!"

Que end of hostile stupid attack number two: 1:28 p.m.

So maybe I lied, the last attack did occur after lunch, but just barely.

Apparently the above quote is relevant in more serious ways than I had originally anticipated. The line that would have been most fitting to scream at the top of my lungs would have been: "This conformity makes them not false in a few particulars, authors of a few lies, but false in all particulars."

False in all particulars.

I guess it's gotten to the point where if the image is satisfactory, it doesn't matter if the shoe's missing it's sole. Quite frankly, we've arrived at the place where the mere word "shoe" written in black sharpie on the side of a foot has become acceptable.

Today I felt like everyone was barefoot.

shoe.