I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I've come to the conclusion that people are like onions.
And no, I don't mean that in the wishy-washy, sentimental sense. I'm not trying to make some deep metaphor about how everyone has layers just waiting to be peeled away. People are like onions because they smell, and bring tears to the eye, and I hate them. And when I say they bring tears to the eye, I don't mean it in the I'm-super-sensitive-and-my-heart-is-fragile-please-be-gentle-with-it-don't-make-me-cry-over-you kind of way- I mean sometimes I think about how stupid people are and it literally makes me weep for the sake of humanity.
Sometimes I wonder what Jesus is thinking up there in his crib, looking down at the millions of people who care more about who the Bachelor is going to pick to be his wife than the American people are going to pick to be their President. Wow, they've really let themselves go.
Or maybe not. In actuality humans have always been rather uncivilized folk.
But back to the onion thing. In all of this thinking I've been doing recently I've realized that people are like onions, and really the world would be better off without them. Well, not all of them, I guess. Just… most of them. The majority.
You probably think I'm a piece of work. I'm not, really, I promise. I'm actually quite a delight. No, really, I've been called a delight before (and it may or may not have been one of the highlights of my sophomore year). If you would've asked me a week ago what my opinion was on the human race, and even onions, I would've given you the widest, cheesiest smile you've ever seen and probably prattled on for a solid fifteen minutes about all the love I have for the world and all the amazing humans I've met and how lucky we all are to be alive and yadda yadda yadda. I would've been a typical ray of light in this hellhole known as high school.
It's only recently- very recently- that I've been… enlightened.
And it's not like I'm a completely different person. I'm not suddenly some darkly clothed travesty, drawing skull tattoos on her arms in pen during class and sitting in library during lunch writing her emo thoughts down in her dream journal or whatever. I still like Scrabble, and The Princess Bride, and jamming to Christmas music no matter the season. I'm still the same cereal-crazy, Save the Whales!, drive-5-below-the-speed-limit Sakura. It's just the people-aspect that's changed. I haven't undergone some big transformation. Just a little shift.
I can tell you how this shift came about, if you want. Really, if I had a therapist he'd probably be telling me I needed to talk about it or write about it or something equally cliche, so in an effort to be self-sufficient I guess I'll just tell you. This will save me loads of money, and maybe some sanity as well. I'm warning you now, though: if you like onions, this might not be the right story for you.
….
Well, here goes nothing, I guess.
….
It all started with a boy. A gorgeous, stoic, perfect boy.
Fucker.
A/N: I don't really know what this is, I just really missed writing all of a sudden, and this was the result. We'll go with it, I guess. Could be fun.
Much love!
ObsessiveBrunette
