Eyes Fall Out

I am too aware. It is killing me inside, to observe the world around me as a sociological article expressing the patterns that seem so cliched to me (from reading "New York Times" excessively, no doubt). I see the college fervor in every one of my classmates--the AP and Ivy-bound, secluded to our own classes. Intelligent or at the very least fanatical, and cutthroat in the subtlest way. A pure reflection in the book I'm reading, Catalyst.

And here I am playing my part, being a sheep to all of it. Getting tutored for the SATs, ACTs, SAT II, APs like the comfortable middle class straight-A student that I am. Supportive parents that will pay anything for fluff and test improvement and practice books and any intellectual (college-recognized) thing I want to do. Watching my peers do the same, watching kids who are out partying drunk every weekend get into my rigorous classes because of their pushy parents. Watching the freshmen come in armed for it all. Might just be me, but I see a lot of superskinny beautiful young girls filing in. Dressing in the bohemian shirts that make them look even smaller, clutching books to their sides. Who has time to eat anymore?

And I am their role model. The Renaissance Girl of our time, yeah. Fashion, figure? Got it. Culture, intellect? Got it. Resources, ambition? Got it. Aren't I going places, the urbanite hipster who's got it allundercontrol just like the unsmiling, pensive girls sitting in a forest in expensive clothes in Urban Outfitters. Starving, most likely, but they are beautiful girls in beautiful drapery set against beautiful landscapes. Dream come true. There eyes beg of something more, but why ask for too much out of life? Dream come true.

"Can you open your eyes to wide?" she asked. "Because mine have fallen out of their sockets."