In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Community Service.”
Your entire community — however you define that; your hometown, your neighborhood, your family, your colleagues — is guaranteed to read your blog tomorrow. Write the post you’d like them all to see.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears. Got your attention? Good. On with the show.
This post is addressed to a particular audience: people at my school. This is a conundrum of sorts, seeing as I hope that no-one I know, least of all anyone from my school, will ever find my blog. But this is all hypothetical, so let’s hypothesise.
Dear people at my school, please stop believing that I care what you think. I never really have, and I definitely never will. I’m fortunate enough to be weird, not care about fitting in, and have an incredible support network of amazing friends. I’m not your average nerd- where in other schools, kids like me float around in groups of two or three, here we all gravitated towards each other, creating a small army. I noticed that the bigger the group got, the quieter the sniggers.
Dear people at my school, I noticed how you are fine around me until Kittykat turns up, and then inexplicably you find it hard to be a decent human being. Why is that? Sure she’s a bit different, sure you’ve never liked her, but you know, you’re not all that great either, and I manage to put up with you most of the time. Grow up. This was fine when we were 11, but some of you are nearly 18 and you’re still behaving like idiots.
Dear people at my school, please stop spreading rumours that me and Kittykat are dating. It’s terribly unimaginative of you.
Dear people at my school, I hope you peak in high school. It’ll be funny to watch.
Dear girls who sat on the table next to me in year 11 and gossiped about me and my friends with my poor friend on your table, jokes on you. You all undermine each other. You all betray each other. You all belittle anyone and everyone to bolster your fragile egos. I hope you’re happy.
Dear other people at my school, thank you. Thanks for being at least less awful than people at other schools. Thanks for understanding exactly what I wanted- not necessarily a friend, just friendliness. Thanks for generally being accepting, cool people. I’m sorry that the minority of idiots are loud enough to take all of my attention. Drama family, I love y’all. You’re so cool. Thanks for being inclusive. I shouldn’t have to thank you for that, but I want to. Because it’s all I’ve ever wanted but never had. Dear friends, this should be a given, but you’re awesome. I’m honoured to have met such awesome people.
That’s all for now. Hopefully some of you will have matured over the summer. If not, thank god for A levels limiting my idiot intake. Also, hefty disclaimer, this doesn’t apply to a good 2/3 of you.