Imagine

Imagine. Just imagine.

You may have been like this before, or you may have not. If the latter, just imagine.

Imagine you went out for a drink with a friend. Imagine you sat in the pub, waiting for your drinks, while the singer got up on stage.

Imagine that, to your horror, you knew the singer. Imagine that you recognised her as being an ex-classmate of the cool crowd in school. And imagine that, you realised later, that others you knew were also in the crowd somewhere.

Now imagine again. Imagine you were back in secondary school. Imagine that everyone was cool except for you. Imagine that you were always on the outskirts looking in. Imagine... imagining that you could never be cool.

Imagine that you thought that you couldn't care, but some part of you did.

Imagine that on one hand, you were all right with the outsider status, and that to some extent, geeks were cool in a way. But imagine that on the other hand, you wished you could be part of the cool crowd for once.

Imagine knowing that you were good in some ways that they weren't.... but nobody knew.

Imagine that you were never part of the spotlight. And those who were in the spotlight never knew how it felt... to be so close to it, and yet never a part of it.

Imagine wishing that for once... YOU were in the spotlight.

Imagine you outgrew all that. Imagine that you became ok with yourself. Imagine that you started to grow your esteem again.

Then imagine seeing that cool crowd again. And getting hit by 4 years of precarious adolescence.

Imagine that that same cool crowd looked just as cool as ever. Imagine that some of that cool crowd, or rather the singer on stage most noticeably, managed to achieve a semblance of their dreams, or managed to start walking there, while you were still stuck at the signposts, looking for directions.

Imagine that every one of them looked thin and fabulous, while you were still fat and...... not so fabulous.

Imagine that they were as cool as ever... and you were not. And maybe you will never be.

Strands of Radiohead float through the smoke.... I'm a Creep...... what the hell am I doing here..... I don't belong here............ and indeed you don't.

Imagine that you douse yourself with alcohol to stave off the bad schema.

Imagine that you totter out of the pub singing a bad rendition of Radiohead.

Imagine that you get on the bus.

And you sober up. And it all comes crashing back.

Maybe this will seem familiar to some of you.

Maybe this will not.

And if it does not,

Maybe... Just Imagine.

Disclaimer: The author of this post was under a slight alcoholic haze while she wrote this and will deny anything when she comes out of it. She is generally happy with her life, so no worries, except for the times when she is reminded of how much more it could have been.