Flashbacks =3

So, I had a random flashback earlier today. I went to the fair with my family when I was around 8 years old, and decided to play the fish-the-duckies or something like that. After failing twice my older brothers took pity, ran around, checked for the winning numbers, and told me which ones to fish for. I won a green iguana stuffy, which I still have.
It made me realize the good times gone. I'll never gain back that innocence, the blissful ignorance I had. I wish I had it now. As I grow older, the drama increases. It's getting harder and harder to avoid. When I just want to be left alone, they crowd in, wondering what's wrong. They're strangers. When I moved in with my dad, I knew things would change. I figured I would miss my hometown, but I never knew how much. I know I'll be back for senior year, but it still makes my heart ache. I look at my fellows here, and I see almost-familiar faces, people acting like the kids I grew up with, so close to them, it's painful to see the resemblences. Until rugby, I won't see them. It's awkward, running into them when I visit friends there. I see them and, wow, they've changed. When did that happen? Certainly not over the summer. In kindergarten, elementary, you never really.. changed, over the summer. It was so gradual, you never noticed. Sure, they got taller, some of the boys, hotter, some less than. Some girls became snobs, bitches, ones you never wanted to hang with. The cliques formed. They stuck. I always looked at the new kids and thought, wow, I'd hate to be them. Now I am. Everyone knows who I am, but I don't have a clue who they are. It's.. almost ironic. I never thought about the new kid's past, just that they were here now and I tried to be friendly, at least a little. Now, I'm the new one. The one who doesn't get the inside jokes, because I wasn't there to make them. I try to be... insignificant. Don't make ties. It's close to the end of school, anyways. Just a few more years and I graduate. If I graduated here, I'd die. I wanted to end where I started. I thought I would. Because I saw my older siblings move and leave their friends behind, I never wanted to do that. I didn't want to change schools. I will end school where I started. This is just a stop, I'll get where I want eventually. Still, it hurts, because.. Those were my first friends, I've known them for over 10 years, now. My dad said that changing schools is no different than graduating. I say nay. It's way different. When you graduate, you leave your friends behind with a sense of belonging, a sense of accomplishment. When you transfer, you leave them behind brokenhearted. For some people, they are forced to graduate with strangers.
At least I've found some fellows here.
Gods, I miss my friends. If I can tough it out for two years, then I'll be able to get what I need done done. I'll graduate on familiar turf. From small town to small town, I've been targeted as the enemy, because, well, let's face it, I am. My older siblings were kicking these kids' older siblings' asses. In sports, in pure awesomeness, in everything. Proud of it, too. I don't deny what I am. I don't deny it, I don't avoid it. I wear the red & white colours with pride. I always will. I want to hang the red & white tassles in my car when I graduate, not gaudy colours, blue and gold, or, worse, green and gold. I walk proud through these halls, proud to be different. I will this year, I will next year. When I go back home, it will be a blessed relief for me.
Stupid ass teachers.
They laugh and say "Oh, you've seen the light!"
I laugh back and say, "Oh, no, I really haven. Circumstances state that I have to be here." Then walk away. They sit so high and mighty on their fucking thrones, thinking they're better than everyone. Back home, it's all a laugh, a real one. We know feelings. When I slip into "wolf mode," no-one understands to just back the fuck off. I try to explain to just leave me alone, nosy bastards. No offense to actual friends where I'm at, but you probably understand who this is directed to. It's getting easier and easier to flick the "Wolf ON" switch, and harder to turn her off. Soon, I'll snap, and I won't give a shit about the consequences. I rarely had to worry about hurting anybody, mainly because they would back off, alot of times because I knew that they could take what I threw at them. They were tough. Most of these kids are fucking pansies. Because I truly don't want to hurt most of them, I try to keep my spirit in check. Gods, it's hard. Soon, red will colour the walls, and it sure as hell won't be paint.

So, this went from nostalgic to goddamned angry, but, most of you should be able to see the intricacies that I deal with day to day. If you can't, too fucking bad.
Thanks for reading.
Don't pray for me.

hmph.

Isn't it weird that people are offended when people get mad at them over the internet? How in the name of hell are you supposed to know what the person who bitched at you was going through that day? Siblings could've been yelling at them, parents bitchin' and complainin' at each other, friends pmsing, THEM pmsing, particularily rude people in the subway. Their mother, father, grandparents, brother, sister, friend, dog, cat, fish, horse, cow, cat died. Someone egged their house. Their car was hit. Hit n runs. THe possibilities are literally endless. Give em a break. Possibly, you were being a bitch towards them and any of the above happened to them, and they really did not feel like being nice or put up with you that day. Admit it, you bitch at strangers over the interwebs too.