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Putting People into Certain Categories

Written by Maggie during math class (not corrected)

A girl comes catapulting at you, shrieking and bellowing, her voice as high as if she inhaled helium. I couldn't understand a word she was saying, only mesmerized by her swatting hand movements and squeaks of despair. Surely, it was something intiated by a bully or an average idiot kid at school. Of course, just staring at these kind of bizarre events envelope me, scared the crape out of me.

The bell rings, she's still acting like she's having a seizure in one of those Red Cross Videos.

So, we're in class. I'm fiddling with papers that I'll never use again, 'til I will pitch it in the garbagge can of "God Almighty, That's a LOT of homework". Until one passerbyer decides to intrude. He says, "Don't you think she's a Goth?" No, it's not neurotic girl, but my friend who got the chide remark. For God's sake, speak up you weenie! Alas, nothing came out except sheer horror of "WTH?" So, I whiped out a remark that goth means rennaissance garb. It does! Look it up int he dictionary, insolent fools! I had to bring up any defense to prove the person wrong. People who call themselves Goth are posers and just want attention, blah, blah, blah.

"Nobody likes a literist," spoke the "Comedian". I think he meant, "Literate". Whatever.

Aw crap! The N2 missles switched direction and instead of hitting Greenland, it hit Iceland. In other words, me. No, way! Besides what was with that? In less than five minutes, two people, no I mean, three people, were given names to be known by. "Goth", "Spasm", and "Literist" (whatever the hell that is, it's not even a word!) Multiply that by the hourse of school day by minutes, divide five into it and boom, you get 288 people each day in less than five minutes, in the 8th grade hall is given a complimentary, "Hi, my name is Literist" smack dab on your bloody shirt. I might even be more than that, but still, what is UP with that?

Why do people like to associate themselves in a group? To belong? I guess, but I don't need that. I'm just an individual craving for a way to get out of poser hall, I mean, HELL.