A loner?


An outcast, maybe?

A weirdo?


An emo, perhaps? But not really. A complex artist type?


A snob in solitude? No.

Maybe, we should just go back to loner.





I have to be something, right? That’s what everyone thinks. We have to have name tags. Maybe, we should resort to color coronations. The loners and outcasts could wear red. The preps and student council could wear yellow. The artists, writers, and musicians will wear black & grey. The geeks and dorks can wear superman-blue. What about me? What color am I? Which name tag do I wear? Whose lunch table do I sit at?




Where do I stand at football games? Behind the bleachers? On the field? In the band stand? Against the fence? In the trees off campus? At home with my headphones in?





What books to I read? Which movies do I pay to see? What do I dress up as on Halloween?

Where do I party? The beach house? The graveyard? The warehouse downtown?

Did anyone ever think that maybe I could just…be…me? Maybe, I could wear any color I wanted to; whichever one suited my mood that day? What if you had to speak to me before you could know my name, my thoughts? What if I sat at five different lunch tables in one week? What if I read any book I pleased? Saw any movie that could make me laugh…or cry? What if I walked everywhere during football games? I could go behind the bleachers, on the field, up to the band, against the fence, into the trees, and maybe even stay home. On Halloween I could pretend to stop pretending? I could party on a grave at the beach beside a warehouse. I could be no one and everyone, and nothing and everything.

I could be me; whoever that turns out to be.