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петак, 27. јануар 2012.

Queen Bees: Modern World Royalty

-Omage to every girl that ever tortured me In high school.
You made me a better person.
                High school. For little kids, it’s just another boring responsibility long way ahead of them. For adults who already lived it, it’s an opportunity and one step closer of becoming real, responsible person with great job and what-not. But for us, sixteen year-olds from all around the world, it’s a little more complicated than that.
                Let’s forget for a moment that few lucky bastards that managed to blind into an ocean of people with different taste in clothing, music, and view of life. Rockers, hippies, metals, punks, geeks, athletes, mathletes, bullies… that’s just another brick in the wall. But real trouble, real misery of every non-skinny, non-pretty, non-pink obsessed creature that walks around the school hallways , that thing that makes you sick in your stomach when you get up in 6.00 am…no, no, that’s not your scary science teacher. It’s…them. Mean girls. Queen bees. Whatever you call them, they are here to remind us that we are nothing but a peasant, unimportant creature that just happens to breath the same air as they do.
                They party all night, fix their make-up in the last bench of the classroom, sitting behind the tall kid from some country you never even heard of, attend cheerleading squad, yearbook committee, homecoming committee, shop every day after school, and they still manage to make your life miserable, sad and unworthy. Always in pink, always with sharp hair bleached in the same salon down the corner, that you can swear you saw Britney Spears coming out of the other day.
                Everybody knows them, nobody can go against them. But even though everyone experienced or just heard of their tortures, they always have the cutest guys at school as their boyfriends. And sometimes, more than one.
                When you see some kid being abused by them in girls bathroom or, god forbid, locker room, it’s easier to just look away and keep walking. You don’t want to  be the next target, do you? And no one can blame you. Generations before us tried to bring them and their twisted monarchy down, but no one succeeded.  They tortured our mothers, our grandmothers, their grandmothers, and I’m pretty sure  they exist from the beginning of the world.
                So really, what can you do? Change school, change country… sometimes it’s not the right thing to do. Reap their little heads off? That can get you in detention. The only thing you can do, is to hope. Hope with every molecule of your being that, when they go to college (if they make it to college - because of all the dating, partying and stuff), they will fill every inch of your pain on their own skin. Meanwhile, hang in there. You’re not the only one. And hey, spring break is just around the block. Ten whole days without their stupid faces everywhere you look. Great, ha?

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