Outcast (1)

Words and Sentences.

I am an Outcast. I do not think the ideas that people who are a Popular have are worthy of being heard. Their ideas consist of makeup, Starbucks, and a blur of Instagram filters. Then again, not everyone who is a Popular thinks this way, I suppose. There's always Aly. She's been my friend when no one else is, which is always. She is always hanging out with a Popular, though. She's never hanging out with me, an Outcast. But she always texts me and talks to me, and she might even hang out with me when its a weekend and her Popular friends are busy. I'm her seconds. Her plan B. And that sounds terrible, but really it's just words. They are just sentences. At least I'm something. I spent too much time being nothing. Plan B sounds better than nothing. I'm right below all the Popular's. Right next to them, looking up at them while they stand together up top. They seem happy up there. I wish I could be happy down here.
I guess you could say I'm different. I never thought of myself as "typical nerd" or "typical loner". I'm not typical anything. I'm a typical whatever the hell I want. And I think that's as good a typical as I can think of. But maybe those are just words and sentences, too. Maybe I could be a typical something. Maybe it wouldn't matter. Typical somethings are easy to come by, but I think typical whatevers are just as easy, because there are so many people who want to stand out. Who want to be different, but instead they crave others' approvals. It's a tragically beautiful contradiction. I feel bad for those people. But don't we all feel this way at some point?
I am just another nothing. I am Outcast. I am not anything special. I don't wish I were anything special, either. I'm content with my anti-social, anti-special self. I think that is tragically beautiful as well. Maybe everything is. I'm not sure most of the time. In fact, most of the time I'm not paying attention to anything. I just sit there and exist. And that is as much as anyone can ever really do, I think.