you know sometimes you're just standing there, like in the middle of a pep rally, all this noise and cheering and everyone's absolutely losing their minds for a football game or whatever, and you’re just… there. like a wax figure. you're surrounded by all these people, practically vibrating with school spirit, and inside your head it's just this dead calm. like you're watching a nature documentary about very loud, excited teenagers. and it's not even a bad feeling, really. it's just so utterly, completely detached. like everyone else got the memo about what to feel and you were out getting coffee or something. and you just nod along, maybe clap a little, even though your brain is miles away, probably trying to figure out the square root of some obscure number or composing a strongly worded mental letter to the school board about the lack of decent vegan options in the cafeteria. it's just so absurdly funny, the disconnect. and it’s not just the pep rallies, is it? it’s the whole damn thing. you sit in class, you listen to the lectures, you participate in the discussions, you even ace the exams – because what else are you going to do, fail? – but it all feels like a really well-produced play you’re reluctantly starring in. everyone else is so INVESTED. so worried about who’s dating whom, or what party is happening on friday, or if they’re going to get into that one specific college. and you're just like, alright, another Tuesday. another mountain of homework. another round of social maneuvering that feels entirely pointless. you see the genuine excitement in their eyes for things that just leave you cold, and you wonder if you missed a chapter somewhere. or if you’re just built different. probably the latter. and you can't help but chuckle a bit at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. like, this is it? this is what everyone gets so worked up about? wild. so yeah, you stand there in the center of the roaring gym, the smell of cheap hairspray and desperation thick in the air, and you just kinda… float. above it all. watching the spectacle. and you think, "huh. interesting." and then you remember you have that five-page essay due tomorrow morning that you haven't even started. and suddenly the roar of the crowd seems a little less like a cacophony of youthful enthusiasm and a little more like the soundtrack to your impending academic doom. but even then, there’s still that little flicker of amusement. because really, what else can you do? cry? please. that would require actual emotional investment. no thanks.