When you see a person with orange spiked hair and a lip ring wearing all black and fingerless gloves walking down the street, most people change sides of the street or think, “I don't want to know that kid, he scares me.” But when they see a girl with brown hair, tied back in a ponytail wearing a white skirt and pink tank-top, they think, “Huh, she must be a sweet kid.” When, really, it could be the opposite. The girl with brown hair is the jerk; she makes fun of people because of what they listen to and look like. And the the guy with the orange hair is actually the nicer of the two. He will talk to anyone, and become friends with them, if they're not scared of him. Even though he is the nicer person, he gets treated unfairly. He's nice to people even though they aren't nice to him. And the brown-haired girl may be the jerk, but she gets treated like a princess; with the rich parents and all her “friends”. She makes fun of people and people still admire her.

Is it just me, or is there something wrong with this picture?

Why does the nice guy repel people, and the snotty girl attract people?

Which one are you most like? The orange haired and pierced guy who repels but should attract, or the brown-haired snot who attracts but should repel? I used to be the snot, then my perspective on the world changed. I died my hair black and started wearing tighter, black clothes and got my lip pierced. People started avoided me. I used to have a boat load of friends, now I have one, a guy exactly like me. He has purple hair and is always wearing black jeans and some sort of band tee. He has a pierced tongue and eyebrow...and is my hero. He stood up to people even when he wanted to hide under a rock. He stood up when then told him to sit down, he spoke when the told him to shut up, and most importantly, he lived when they told him to die. He didn't give in to peer pressure, even though I wouldn't call them “peers”. That implies some sort of relationship with them. He was strong; something I'll never be. I did what they told me to do...they told me to hide under a rock, I did. They told me to shut up, I did. They told me to die, I did. But not in the literal sense. My body is alive, but I have no spirit, it died a long time ago. He is alive, I'm dead. He's strong, I'm weak. He believes, and I doubt. He deserves friends; I don't.