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woensdag 23 januari 2013

fake


So now I see why half of my American friends take tranquilizers, Prozac or nutrient additives. And now I see why they all need food, beer or hours at the gym to calm down from a normal day. It is, my friend, because most of American society is fake. And most of the people around me fake it, too. I can’t take any more smiles today – I am done with it, for now. It is all One Big Joke – the American fairy tale. Although I do fit pretty well in the picture (I’m skinny, friendly, I behave properly, and smile often) – it is just not me. 

Boys fake their voice (as low as you can go), their hair, their muscles, their attitude. Girls fake their hair, their mood, their emotions, their smiles. As long as you smile, and wave, you are perfectly fine. Or at least, that’s how the story goes. Today, I felt like crying. After a lunch meeting with my Professor, who kept on praising me for my grades, I felt totally numb. Give me something real, something true, something sure, or at least some air – give me a reason to stay here, or I’ll turn my back around. I didn’t run. After another fake thank you, I went back to the law school, to fulfill millions of expectations, weighing on my shoulders. I’m crashing – I need a friend (not an American one, but a real one). 

So I called my mom, cried for a bit, told her my story and went back to the library. Red nose, blurry eyes - I couldn’t care less. That might be the best part – I didn’t care, anymore. I am me, that’s it, that’s all there is – and although I do know that should be good enough, it just doesn’t always feel that way. Tomorrow, I’m flying back to New York. I need some more energy, vitamin water, fruit and vegetables and maybe also, some carbs. I should eat better, rest more, sport less, become calm. I should go home. I feel like eating a big juicy melon and go to bed early. I still need to pack, though, and print my resume and do my reading - whatever. I am going home.

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