Warning

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.

I hope you had the time of your life.

-         Green Day, Time of Your Life

        I write a great deal about the high school experience. From high school, I was writing stories about characters in high school, doing the high school thing – which is quite synonymous with teenage angst and suffering. Oddly enough, my own, personal high school experience wasn’t that bad. I was hardly picked on, and I had my fair share of friends.

        No, where I suffered like most high school students usually do was back in grade school. My best friend and I are prone to occasional belabored groans about how we hated the school – in fact, one of my fondest memories from those days was the last day of class where us 8^th graders all stood, united to the last man, tearing apart our blazers in a giant pile on the floor before we left.

        God, we hated those blazers, these bright red polyester numbers that could be seen from blocks away on an overcast day.

        It was grade school that taught me what it really and truly meant to be an outsider. No, no, don’t get me wrong – I had a few friends, and I didn’t become either suicidal, homicidal or both. Depressed, certainly, and insular. But, nothing too extreme.

        On the issue of being an outsider, let me be clear. I did have it bad in grade school, I did. I was the new kid for four years, and truth told, I didn’t make it easy on myself. My tastes were different, the way I talked, the way I moved was different, and on top of that I was one of, if not the youngest kid in my grade and amongst the smartest. That didn’t help matters at all.

        So, I know what I’m talking about when I talk about being an outsider. I learned very quickly that finding someone who I could really and truly relate to was a rarity that I was not given. With few people I could talk to, and even fewer who I felt could actually understand how I felt or had to say, I simply did what most kids in my position did: turned inwards and developed the self-defense mechanisms that fuck you up today!

        Being an outsider has it’s advantages, though; those of us out there who know are nodding their heads right now. When you’re no longer part of the herd, you can get to see it for what it really is – be it good or bad. Yes, there are good things to being part of the herd, no matter what some may say.

        You’re accepted. Period.

        That about sums up the good things. But, I digress.

        As an outsider – an outsider that’s made to feel like one, an outsider that’s got no choice but to be an outsider – you have the opportunity to start seeing how people really and truly work, in group settings and as individuals. The best example of that is the one guy or gal we knew, who knew your name, offered you a smile, was good for some chit-chat on an odd day. But, said guy or gal was also part of the horde that tormented you, just as much as your worst enemies.

        Where is this all leading to, you may ask? I am supplying my credentials, dear reader so that what I have to say next, what I am about to share with you will hold some weight.

        I will warn you, however, that the theory I am about to offer may be dated by my age, by my lack of Worldy Experience that most people over a certain age talk about when they don’t even bother to listen to you. I may look back at this essay ten, twenty years from now and ask, “My God, but the crack must’ve been good when I was nineteen!”

        But, here’s the sobering thought: Ten, twenty years from now, I will sit back and brace myself as I realize I got it right.

        This theory of mine begins with this statement: when they say college is much more different than high school, where you shall not be subjected to dealing with stupid-people-drama, where you no longer have to worry about cliques and the associated behaviors is bullshit.

        That’s right, kids. Bullshit.

        Don’t get me wrong. College is different from high school. But, that’s because people no longer have to sneak around and steal liquor from some one else’s parent’s liquor cabinet or beg and plead for an older sibling or friend to provide booze; you can legally get it yourself.

        While people do find themselves in college, and make tons more friends than they ever had in their lives before, it’s usually with people who share the same interests.

        College is high school, but on a much, much larger scale.

        What makes the fundamental difference in the college experience to the high school experience is this: at the end of four years of high school, you have another four years to go. At the end of four years of college, that’s it, junior. The real world awaits, and the real world is a scary fuckin’ place.

        This of course leads to another statement, a statement that will either make complete sense once it clicks, or will baffle your mind as I call the world you know nothing more than a façade:

        Just because you’re of legal age doesn’t make you a “grown-up.”

        Look around you and you’ll know it’s the truth. There are 40-year-old boys running around who were told when they were younger that “boys will be boys” and they never bothered to change, not really. Their immaturity isn’t so much hidden as given new ways to manifest itself.

        There are 30-year-old girls who still run around believing that all life has to offer is just a brand new bag, a designer dress, the “best” things in life being the most expensive things they can afford.

        Age does not make you grow-up. Growing-up is a state of mind, an attitude, a fundamental adjustment to the world around you where you no longer see things according to what you want, or even what’s best for just you. It’s about taking on personal responsibility for your actions and inactions, about seeing the forest for the trees.

        How many people do you know at and above the age of 21 who fulfills that description?

        This is my warning to you, whoever you are, no matter what age. The next time you look at someone who should be old enough to know better and you ask yourself, “Why are people so fucking stupid?” now you know. It’s not because their IQ is lacking, but their EQ.

        Now, don’t be a smartass and start thinking yourself superior to anyone because of this revelation. Sure, you may know something, but in the end… there’s much more of them than there are of you, and God help you if you’re still dependant on your parents.

        Especially if you call them mental retards.

        Even if they are.

        But, don’t you say it to their face! Allowance is Mmm-mm good!