Little Boxes

We all go through it. That phase in which we fancy ourselves individuals, free thinkers, different than anything else that existed before us. Some of us want to be the one in the group that has that air of mystery about them, with the eerie sense of humor and questionably withdrawn behavior. Maybe we were the ones trying to hard to be the leaders of 'thinking outside the box', with our edgy style in clothing and outspoken liberal attention hogging skills (although inside you're obviously THAT aware about your own short-comings).

We waste countless years trying to 'find ourselves', define who we are in others eyes, where we stand politically and religiously...though in the end the majority of us end up following into our predecessors in one way or another. The best we can really do is improve ourselves to the best of our ability, not for the sake of being the center of attention or to create a persona that people can know us by, but to give our life some sort of satisfactory meaning. Not by any one's standards, not by a book definition, just to be.

I can still be a weirdo. I can still dress silly. I'll still get looks and either compliments or criticism from others. I'll follow others and be followed by some. But I'm doing what makes me happy, for me. Let's face it, we're living in a day and age in which everything has been said, done, written and dreamed by many before us. Sure we have a few ideals that are our own, but are we really that 100% different from Joe Schmoe over there? Oh my little snowflakes...we're just water.

Except me. I'm one of a kind. Grins.

"Little Boxes"

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same,

There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same

And there's doctors and lawyers
And business executives
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,

And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same,

There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

- Malvina Reynolds