Two goth kids said good morning to me today. After I said good morning to them, they
stared blankly at me for a moment and then begrudgingly mumbled a
response. I was this crazy bat on a
bike, dressed like a Christmas tree, with flashing lights and various layers of
bright clothing that adorned me like homemade ornaments. I embodied everything
they were fighting not to be. As I
passed, I slowed and threw all my positive energy toward them. They represented my younger self, a self that
ached for acknowledgement, a self that eventually grew without the
acknowledgement from others. It could
have been easier for me. But it
wasn’t. And because it was hard for me,
I am filled with a desire to make it easier for others whose reaching hands
have been slapped.
When I said hello this morning, I expected nothing. Instead I was given a gift mumbled between
black lips as their pierced faces scowled for a moment, before radiating tiny
sparks of light.
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