Everyone has a label.
And everyone labels everyone else, perhaps subconsciously, but without fail, with everyone, even the cashier at the grocery store. Yes, when you see him, you think this poor rocker dude is stuck here because he was too stubborn to finish high school. And you won't think about him ever again, but you labeled him. You put him in a category(s). In this case "rocker" or "high school drop out."
For the past couple of years people have labeled me a hippie. Personally, I think labels are for jars, so I don't put like to myself into a category. I don't appreciate it too much when others do it for me either.
I don't know exactly why or how the hippie thing started. Maybe it's my unkempt, curly hair. Maybe it's my tendency to start singing "Give Peace a Chance" whenever anyone starts arguing (though, I must admit, the reactions to my lovely song aren't too favorable). Maybe it's because my dream car isn't even a car. (It's a VW Bus, if you must know) Whatever the reason (and I can list a few more, now that I think about it, but that can wait) I can say that I never get to carried away with my weirdness.
Which all comes down to this video:
So, yeah.
I'm not a hippie, but, Christ, neither are they! I'm all for saving the planet (yeah, they call me a treehugger, too) but these people are mentally disturbed.
Thank you
Maria Teresa
No comments:
Post a Comment