Learn To Breathe (DBZ)

II: The Proud Club

Blog #3- Babble of the Day.

Lately these days, I've been listening to hymnals and soft classical music. Weird isn't it? How can a fifteen-year-old girl who now attends high school listening to such 'lame' music? Well, that's what Trunks told me when he snatched my phone from me and started to go through it. To his surprise, I had a ginormous amount of 'Birdy' and 'Adele'-esque tunes stored in there. So when he told me my music was lame I felt so personally attacked. But, I let it slide because I knew trying to convince him otherwise was like telling a stubborn child to not get its toy.

But why does one's taste or preference really...matter? Is it that important? Everyone only seems to care what clothes you wear, what shoes you own, and I can go on with this list. Though as I speak irony seems to endlessly flow out...I've said it once and I'll say it again: I'm materialistic. But every single person cares more about the green-stacked bills. Something I see in both men and women alike. We all put in importance money, rather than morals.

Girls, we spend it on frivolities anything to enhance our faces. Caked on powders wrinkling with each smile, designer clothes you don't know how they got, almost everything a woman spends on is for their very own artificial beauty. Now, I never EVER said this is a bad thing, anyone and everyone has the liberty to love and enjoy the wonderful things that come with spending to their heart's content but it shouldn't take up everything about you...even social status or how worthy you are of speaking to another individual.

Men, they spend it on their overpriced basketball shoes, the insanely expensive looking cars, and the list continues on. They are like women; we both spend it on the things we want. Again, that isn't and will never be a bad thing. We're all the same believe it or not. We're all made of flesh and bones; we all have hair where we wished we didn't. But internally we all bleed the same color, breathe the same air. Our bodies work the same, men and women alike. So why are we treated so different anyway?

That's because we're always seen differently. But that's just my point of view. I've always wondered really why I'm told to hide the skin I've grown in, though that's me rambling on, like always. I'm nothing but a speculator. I watch from afar, never to speak aloud...I guess that's why I'm entrusted with secrets. I never like being the one being observed though; it's insanely uncomfortable, as you can actually feel those cold eyes watching you. At that moment I'd wish I could be those cold eyes, rather than the person they watched.

There's nothing is scarier than being taken out of your comfort zone because some creep is staring at you, and you feel those eyes judging you. That small voice in the back of my head is always telling me things that I shouldn't actually think about, yet insists until my comfort zone is there no more. Strangely enough, I don't have many places where I can sit and relax for a few moments, or feel comfortable. Public places are certainly a drag and to actually yank me out into the real world is rather difficult...to say the least.

I tend to believe that the one who watches is the smarter one, rather than the one who's instigating the actions. That's why I'm always, or at least almost always,

The 'smart' one.

It's another group outing, the fifth this month actually. Yes, Marron Chestnut is one to keep count. She currently was holding the head-rest of the driver's seat from behind nervously, because the one driving is a quiet the spontaneous kind of person, much like his sister, but worse. Beside her sat Pan and Bra, both arguing over who called shotgun first. Though Goten already slipped into the front seat, taking their place. Music blaring some terrible radio remix that no one even cared to listen to.

One would wonder, why don't you just fly? Marron. That's why none of these partial Saiyans were flying. They attempted this once with her but swore they'd never do it again after punching both Goten and Trunks as they immediately dropped her almost to her death. Thankfully, however, Bra was there to allow her to tell the story. But of course, no one minded the annoying traffic as much...well except Trunks, the only one who could really drive out of the group.