Think.

People are so complicated.

And it’s so easy to see this world as the suburban little idea it would really quite like to be, its so easy to look around and see the teenage girls and middle aged men and doubt whether their thoughts are borrowed or their own, it’s so easy to say to yourself that you’re the only person in the whole wide world who thinks.

And sometimes someone comes along to fuel your delusion. Someone who looks and acts like everyone you detest because you’re the only one who thinks and you start to talk because look at this little human in their little mind with their borrowed thoughts and copied ideas and why not? And for a little while you think that this person is exactly like everyone else; either too concerned with something or not concerned enough. But after a little while you begin to notice the abnormalities, these brief, fleeting fragments that you haven’t heard before and before you know it you’ve realized that you’ve found a person who can think; another tiny droplet of color in this newspaper world. And you never for a single moment wonder that if you just got to know everybody the way that you got to know this person that you might discover that they have their own thoughts and feelings and opinions, they’re just choosing not to share them with you.

People like to think that everyone other than them has no thought, just the people to conform to society, just the people to fall silently into their categories, because we all need people to scoff at us. We need people to say we can’t, if we didn’t we would never get anything done. And sometimes we fabricate our own enemies with the faces of the harmless. We look at people we don’t know and don’t understand and tell ourselves over and over again that they think that we can’t. And they look back at us and think exactly the same thing, because despite being social creatures we are so impersonal.

We need girls who were make up to impress boys, and we need evil jocks, we need dorky teenagers because if everyone is different how do we know that we aren’t the same. We force ourselves not to think about their backstories, we never ask them why. People never think about the fact that just maybe there can be all different types of different.

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