Twelve-Year-Old Reflections

I wrote the following when I was twelve, the summer before seventh grade.

“I’m just sick of having all this media stuff shoved down my throat. The brain receives something like 8,000 images each day or something. I always grew up with the tabloid magazines in grocery stores and now I don’t even think twice about them. I once picked one up and read an article all about weight loss tips and tricks. I used to want to be a Hollywood TV star. When I was four I pretended that Hollywood made a movie all about my life and I was the star. Ever since then I have acted like my life was one big movie. I spend time fantasizing about ”the twelve year old kid who runs away from home and lives a free-spirited life in the jungles of South America.” I am sick of having everybody else tell me that I have to change to be cool. Because of these people, I have changed my lunchbox, my clothing, my attitude toward life, my personality, my passions, the way I walk, the way I talk, the way I act, my attitude towards my family, my attitude towards school, and the way I treat others. All of these things I have changed to suit them. [Classmate] (who thinks we’re good friends) told me I was fat and that I needed to cuss more. I think I already do quite enough of cussing. About being fat…well…whatever. I’m not like that kid who eats potato chips all day and whose eyes turn to jello from watching TV.
Things you never knew about me. Underneath all my sweet and sugary coating, I have some pretty bitter insides.”


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