Hairstyles of the Damned

Just because you have blue hair and fucked-up clothes doesn’t mean you’re better than everyone else. Because you know what? You’re just conforming to someone else’s code. Even though you don’t wear khakis or sweaters or whatever, but to me all you guys look the same. You think you’re so individualistic, but you’re not. You guys—you and Kim and all the rest—you’re like anti-snob snobs. But you’re just as mean as the preppy kids. You’re all just as fucking lame.

I was a shy kid and I was afraid what i said sounded stupid, so I hardly ever saud anything. I was the third wheel. Fifth wheel? I was the fucking wheel you didn't really need, but I still hung around. I thought maybe my silence would one day impress somebody. As of yet, it hadn't done much for me.

Maybe it was better to just go on believing everything was OK, even when really bad things were just about to happen.

The more you like a girl, the less she likes you. It’s like fucking scientific.” “What about you and Kim?” “That’s what I’m talking about, little dude. If I start being nice and acting cool and saying things and being on time, she starts acting, you know, fucking uninterested. But if I act like a total dick, then she calls me all the fucking time. It’s fucking crazy, because I really like her and all, but when I say nice shit to her, she gets all freaked out and says she needs some fucking space and all. So I just act like I don’t give a shit, you know? It’s all part of God’s plan,” he said, nodding.

It would always be a put-on, high school or not, for the whole rest of the world, for the rest of our lives. You couldn’t ever guess who someone was by the way they looked because, good or bad, the way they looked was always just a costume or an act. It was Halloween everyday, for most people anyway, just to feel like they weren’t alone, to belong, just to keep being happy maybe.

wondered about what he said and then thought hard. I could never be a dick, not to Gretchen anyway, so I guess I was doomed; doomed to go for this girl that didn’t go for me. But that was OK as I long as I did everything I could.

I was just going to stand here and watch it happen. I wasn’t going to say a fucking thing. Why? Because what did it matter? What did any of it matter?

I was a shy kid and I was afraid what I said sounded stupid, so I hardly ever said anything. I was the third wheel. Fifth wheel? I was the fucking wheel you didn't really need, but I still hung around. I thought maybe my silence would one day impress somebody. As of yet, it hadn't done much for me.