I'm on display for the world to see. Do they look at me and see beyond the zits, frizzy hair, and excess body fat? Not likely. Our world is one of beauty queens, drama queens, and drag queens - superficiality is key - and the rest get attention. Where does this leave me? Alone and hopeless in a society of Barbie dolls and chiseled Kens.
What is a poseur? One who does not meet the standards of an individual? How can one be like another? And why do they deserve judgment underneath cliche makeup and hairstyles? A person is hiding, waiting to show their true colors and yet you call them poseurs - losers - abusers of fashion, when you don't even know them. And what does that make you? The "real" one?
What is it about people that causes them to love (or whatever they call it)? Is it their longing for companionship or their longing for a f**k-buddy? Is it lonliness or arrogance? Is it love at first sight or showing off to the rest of the cheer squad? People - no, not people - kids, getting sucked into this vicious cycle of lust and greed and possession that never lets go.
They make me sick.