Just Like Me

by pie_is_good
originally published at 01:05AM on Sunday, November 25, 2007

You want to know who I am?

Imagine you’re sitting in a classroom. Go on, imagine. Where do you usually sit? Is it the back? The side? The front?

If you’re me, you pick the easiest seat for a quick exit, although you try to hide it.

Oh, sure, you’ll never actually use it. Too terrified of what someone would think if you actually ran out of class.

You just like to know it’s there.

It’s the afternoon.

Having forgotten to turn on the lights or open the curtains, you sit there in the glow of your laptop screen as you chat with friends who are nothing more than pixels and watch episode after episode of a show you know better than you know yourself.

Night sneaks up on you, and before you know it, you’re walking to a party with your best friend. Sure, you chat without any problems when it’s just him, laughing as you nearly get hit by a car as you jaywalk across the street.

The moment you step through that door, you’re different.

You’re silent, absolutely silent, until someone slaps a drink in your hand.




  • from Stovohobo:

    Chilling. There are some vivid descriptions in here, especially the “nothing more than pixels” line. Almost all—well, anyone who’s reading this is a victim of that.