fortified city of Wayne

what do i look like to you? honestly? maybe with my blonde hair and petite frame, you perceive me as a societal laughing stock (who is nice to look at) i mean, blondes do have more fun. or maybe with my paint jeans and messy hair, i might be someone who just doesn't give a fuck... here's the thing -- usually, i don't.

it's like this -- don't talk to me like i am incapable of understanding you. don't talk over my head, so i am incapable of understanding.. just to make yourself seem better...

and here it is plainly -- do not flirt with me. okay? just don't do it. don't think that you are some supreme being because you are a guy who knows a little bit about computers.. .and p.s., while you are talking to me like i have an IQ just a little above a slug, do not look at my chest.

what if we started talking about world poverty or homosexuality or the racial injusticies that plague our nation and my views on such issues... why can't that ever happen? why must these boys, freshmen boys at that, strike up a conversation about what makes them seem amazingly awesome. to add insult to injury, it's usually about things that just don't matter.... who gives a fuck if you can install viruses or even if you create them -- why don't you focus your energy on leaving me the hell alone and typing your paper? okay?

what a creep. then after all of this, he forces me to end the conversation, which didn't happen any too soon, awkwardly... maybe just so he can steal a fleeting glance at my butt...

some boys, i tell ya....