[Got an anonymous confession or rant you just have to share with the world? Submit it to I, Anonymous HERE!—eds]
It’s an unusually peaceful ride home on the bus. I’m enjoying finishing the epilogue of my book. It’s at a sentimental part, it’s the end, the end in a way that is a happy/sad nostalgic conclusion. It’s hitting home because it relates to where I was born and raised, full of spiritual, historical and cultural references.
An actual paperback book.
Then Bam.
We pick up highschool kids. All these hyenas in human form, but with far less class than any animals, start shouting, yelling, with full flailing gestures. There’s the one person who’s the loudest, the center of attention, thinking they’re super funny and cool. The one hyena so cool they start making eating out tongue motions to someone who is not impressed. I make eye contact. Man. Man. Man. Loud. Chatter.
I get it and truly don’t. They got out of a half day of school and are now releasing energy from such hard education. Man, these kids don’t know hard. They don’t know hard work. They don’t know a hard life, what it means and entails. Let me be kids, yes, I’m Troy. Karen, and Chad. I’m Katrad. I was a kid. But I had a mom. And I had role models. This is a public bus.
What are teachers doing. Man, what are parents teaching. Man. Why am I part of this society. Now it’s shit and swearing. Super cool. Super funny. Man, if I could, I’d love to set that one right in his place and learn how to behave. The thing is, how cool and funny they think they are, but how so unattractive the behavior is.
I stopped reading my book. Sad. In the middle of a piss or climax. Can you imagine, whatever it is to get you to a place of such disarray? I’m sure you can.
And I just couldn’t wait for them to leave. But they’ll always be there doing the same hyena shit, never growing up, never learning, and thinking how cool they are being the center of their stupid universe they think life is all about them.
My stop is the last. And I was alone. I was truly happy. I was truly okay.