Pressure

Aside from the fact that, two and a half years in, I have no excuse NOT to have learned the bassline to the song so that the Exhibit(s) can once again cover Billy Joel…

I’m not entirely sure why it is that some people I know are so susceptible to pressure from their peers and society in general, and why I’m not. Which is to say, I know why I’m okay with ignoring people’s opinions, and I know that learning to not care what people think is a long road to walk when you’ve spent your whole life living by other people’s standards.

But some of my friends seem content to change themselves, or to do or not do things based not on what they want but what is expected of them.

And on that note, parenthetically, I’m not cutting my hair anytime soon, because windy days like today feel good. Do I need more reason? Fuck, I don’t even really need that reason, do I? Nope.

People’s opinions of me don’t change a thing. And the things about me that they have opinions about — hair, dress, tattoos, jewelry, music, movies, whatever — don’t really affect them one bit. Do I offend? Maybe, but I guarantee that at the end of the day, nothing has changed because of it.

And this is what makes me happy, this being me thing. It’s not easy to be yourself, especially when yourself runs contrary to the flock.

But it’s not like I’m carving swastikas into my forehead, or wearing GOD HATES FAGS shirts, or berating women at the top of my lungs, or anything else. In fact, I’m possibly the most live and let live guy you’ll ever meet.

I’m just a little different. Probably partialyl to stand out from the crowd, sure, but also because it makes me comfortable to look and be the way I do and am.

You do your thing, I’ll do mine. If you ever start hurting me, I’ll let you know. You do the same.

Just mae sure you’re not crying wolf, or I’ll be quick to respond. Or maybe even hand you a band-aid.

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