Bridge

BRIDGE

Looking Back

You couldn't call it cold exactly, but not hot either. I had gone past being "in the middle". The extremity of my personality would never allow it. My hands were white, black, male, female, old, and young. They had become so warped, that they forgot what they were.
It was a painfully honest experience, and it had taken its toll.
Maybe I wasn't the person for the task, but who else would be foolish enough to take it on? No one.
Sun peeked through, and felt like the moon. In the process of gaining it all, I had lost it all.
Although I'm at the older end of the age spectrum, my body and conscious can feel what happened twenty some years ago.
Okay, so maybe thirty, but who would bother to count?
Morning, right? I have to get up. I'm a professor for god's sake.
Sociology, which is exactly what you'd expect from me. I loved the job, and what it enabled. Hard as they tried, fools and officials couldn't make this class into bookwork. It was life experience. Yet words were required. "Certified" words. Words without feeling or meaning, scientific nothingness. "Certified" words. Ugh!
I followed normal procedure, to a minimum.
It was as my life had always been, following rules, but refusing authority.
The thing that you have to understand is that everyone is smarter than the other person. We all know things the other doesn't. Authority cannot allow that, I understand that now. We have to question order, which is exactly what I did.

Popular

You have to realize the situation I was in at the time. I had gone through three years of high school, without doing anything particularly memorable. A few friends would remember me, of course. But I wanted more. It was immature, and shallow, but I simply wanted more.
Selfish, I know.
The idea was simple, well you couldn't call it simple, maybe basic was the word for it. Every week until the end of the year, I was going to be a different person. Not just introverted to extroverted either. Popular. Nerd. White. Black. Man. Woman. New Kid. Jewish.
I can't say how the idea came into my mind, I just needed to know what they felt like. I needed to be loved by them all, or at least accepted. I was in between, and yet my personality always went through extremes.
Not hormones, personality. Please, not hormones.
To tell anyone would be a waste of time. The truest confidantes couldn't know. They had to hate me, love me, know me, forget me, remember me. I needed to know.
Why did I think "need"? Why was it such a requirement?
I'm not sure.
When situations of skin color, or gender change came up, they would. To start out, I just needed to be popular. Simple enough.
What were with magazines those days? Now a days?
Top 10 ways to be popular! I was lucky that I didn't have to purchase the foolishness, just read it when I was cutting out pictures for an art project.
One. Why do you want to be popular? Make sure you are doing it for the reasons. That wasn't a "how", that was a "I don't want parents suing me, so I'll put in something to make the article sound good." It did make me think though, why did I want this? And still, I didn't have an answer.
Two. Be Comfortable with yourself. I was comfortable enough.
Three. Relax. Obviously they didn't know the mission I was about to submit myself to.
Four. Be Outgoing. Telling teenagers what to be? I flipped to number five, wondering if the magazine had some influence on the conforming attitudes of today.
Five. Share funny incidents about yourself. What?! Tell complete strangers some of the most embarrassing moments of your life. That was supposed to make you "comfortable" about yourself.
The article started to sicken me.
Six. Become involved. The magazine was starting to make more sense, and it was the first bit of advice I took. I would become a member of twenty organizations, if those were the requirements.
Seven. Create Your Own Style? Fashionable, me? I flipped to the front cover of the publication, seven new styles for young women. What were males supposed to do? I had forgotten that this was a girls magazine, for gum popping pink princesses. I continued on. There couldn't be a magazine for someone like me out there, a shape shifter. I didn't really want to be popular, just wanted to know what it felt like. For a week. At most!
Eight. Take Pride in yourself. I was a good person, smart and outgoing. The task was brave. Pride enough!
Nine. Do something unexpected. Well, when the opportunity arose, I would.
Ten. Enjoy yourself. Well I don't know if I could consider it enjoying myself, but I was doing what I thought would be interesting.
I cut out a picture of a fish for the project, and threw it back in the pile.
That was it. Person # 1 would start tomorrow.