- Every day, I pick up my 15-year-old sister from high school.
- Every day, I get there a few minutes early (so I can avoid the high school drivers).
- Every day, I watch the high schoolers flood from the building at 3:15 (and 30 seconds).
I watch them as they run to "their" cars, as they get in, turn up the music (as loud as it could possibly go) and speed away. Every time I see them I just notice how awesome they think they are. They smoke their cigarettes, they smile and wave at their friends as they drive past them. Some of them look so concentrated on where they're going, they're not even taking in the moment. I'm sure whatever is going on in their life is uber important (not), but why can't they just take it in? Why are we so incapable of realizing what we have before it is gone?
Sometimes, I think this way too. Sometimes, I think the world revolves around me. Sometimes, I catch myself walking around campus with my friends, assuming everyone wonders about us — assuming everyone cares about our story.
Why are we giggling? Where are we going? How do we know each other?
Why do we we feel so big, when really, we're so small?
We all do it. We all assume people care about us.
Actually, some of us assume no one cares about us.
Which is worse?
I'm not sure.
Actually, some of us assume no one cares about us.
Which is worse?
I'm not sure.