don't fake the funk on the nasty dunk. some people. try too hard. like, way too hard. it's a hard thing to pin down. trying too hard. you know it when you see it. like love. so yeah, it's pretty much un-see-able. but it's there. this overwhelming sense of needing to be "in." some people just exude it. a "take me take me!" type of stench. well, not a stench, because it's not a bad thing. but i digress. people learn, as they mature, that being accepted, and being in is really not all it's cracked up to be. as someone famously naughty (one of the rat pack i believe) once said: "any group that would have me as a member, i wouldn't want to be in." that's not the exact quote but close enough.



usually, people go through periods when they want to be a part of something. want to please certain people. want to gain that most elusive of things: respect, acceptance, and friends to bunch with. we need logos. "i'm with him" stickers. solidarity in numbers. that kind of thing. this period usually coincides with high school. and probably college. heck, this period probably started in elementary school. so basically, we're trying to be "in" our whole lives.



some people step outside of these boxes. and slip deftly and effortlessly in-between different groups and classifications. how much of their true selves they take with them is up to debate however. do all your friends see the same you? if i talk to andy and sally about toby, would they say the same thing about him? is it even important to keep the same "you" from group to group? or is it perfectly fine to switch skins as you move around.



this isn't important right now. the important thing is the "trying too hards". people will, surprisingly, accept you for who you are. there's no need to be too much anything. do as you do. and they will do back. or if they don't, do over. that's alot of do's. but it works.



i think that's what people learn. as they get older. to find their people. to find their niche. their spot. but sometimes, it seems like there is no niche. no people. no moses-es to cling to. no congregation. no peasants. no pro-you-tariats. no herd that wants to flock your way. and you're faced with the fact that you're just a single specimen, forever denied access to noah and his wonderful love boat. but that's okay too. because as long as you're still you, nothing could be worse. except for you know, that solitary confinement loneliness thing. but hey. it's better than being fake.