Sometimes I realise I am different. I laugh louder than a girl is expected to , I climb trees , I am not doing a degree society wanted me to , I eat faster and more than a boy does , my hair is shorter than the warmth I feel for fake people and I genuinely don’t care about my appearance half the time. The other half I can’t stop caring about my appearance. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to fit in , to not laugh so much , to have silky , glossy hair whose length is determined by everyone else ‘s restrictions , to fit in and be a human being worth of ideas and values, not even a black sheep. To have people say that sometimes they wish they thought like me , that they wished that they too don’t care about anyone anymore , people who genuinely say they care about the colour of the sky on the day a important political figure died , people who think differently and more blizzard . I am not looking for appreciation I am looking for validation as a fellow person who wouldn’t be considered silly with a head full of half baked ideas. Sometimes I tell myself where do I start learning to be this person , this girl that everyone accepts. This girl with short measured laughs and long hair who genuinely cares what everyone single person says about her. On that day , weepingly , I put on abit of makeup , blowdry my hair to make it look longer , wear girly clothes and step out only to be met with scorns by my real , small group of people who genuinely care for and about me and chide me on losing sleep over trivial things like makeup. Those sometimes rules out everything else.