It's like lego, it's all sort of pretend.

Do you want to go play polo? The boy you'll go with is British and very handsome!

Thanks Dad, but I think I'll pass. I don't know why he assumed the information about the boy was supposed to change my mind, you would have thought it would be the part about the Horses.(I no longer plaster my walls with pictures of various horses, but it doesn't mean I love them any less) Normally I would kill for the opportunity to muck around with horses and hit things with a stick but I barely have time to sleep as it is. Of course my dad won't shut up about the boy, at this point I already know what school he goes too, his dad's job etcetera. No go. I figure my dad is doing this to fulfill some sort of guilt debt he's harboring, the life I'm supposed to have versus the one I do have I suppose. About how if things had gone peachy and as planned I would be...
But either ways, why should we cry over things that were never ours in the first place.

On another note, it puzzles me why people continue to search for similarities and patterns in a non-linear world. How people can generalize and make such obviously fallacious statements in order to assign meaning and supposed explanations to completely random incidents. Just because a similar incident has happened before doesn't mean the outcome is going to be the same this time.
But I suppose it is how the human brain works, supposed logical deductions, categorizing, stereotyping - That's just how we are. We aren't snowflakes no matter how special we think we are, in the end, we're all just people.
I remember after the whole incident of my (then)bizarre haircut, people would come up to me and tell me variations of - I keep hearing people talk about your hair, it must have taken lots of guts to do this.
And I remember being puzzled and amused, I mean, it's Just Hair, and honestly I wasn't worried about how other people would react to it mostly because it doesn't matter as long as I like it. After the first few people (and subsequent pep talks because strangely enough, alot of them wanted to chop off their hair but was too afraid to do it) I remember just going "I don't mind looking ugly because I'd rather look different from everyone else than the same"
I suppose that's still true for me now because I still find that the I cannot deal when people are indifferent to me.

The Story of the Green Pig (Taken from The Pillowman, written by Martin McDonagh)
Once upon a time, there was a little pig that lived in a farm. He was green. A glowing sort of green. All the other pigs laughed and bullied him because he was different from everybody else. The little green pig didn't care because he knew he was special. The other pigs jeered at him all day till the farmers got upset with the noise that they were making. Then one night while all the pigs were asleep, the farmers sneaked up on the little green pig and grabbed him as he squealed and struggled. The other pigs laughed and were very happy that he was being taken away. The farmers brought the little green pig to a barn where there was a great big barrel of pink paint. The paint could neither be washed away nor be painted over. The little green pig was terrified and he prayed, "God, please do not let them dunk me into the paint, for I want to be special!" The farmers then proceeded to dunk the little green pig till every part of his green being was covered in pink. They then threw him back to the pen and now, every pig was pink. The little pig was very upset and went to his favourite grass patch and weeped. "God, why didn't you stop them?", he exclaimed. As he weeped, a very strange cloud began to gather. Then it started to rain. It was a very peculiar kind of rain. It was raining glowing green paint that could never be washed away nor painted over. It rained all night till every part of the farm was covered in paint. The farmers woke up the next day to find all the pigs were now a glowing green...except for the little pig, because he was covered in pink paint that could never be painted over. The other pigs began to wail over their newly-coloured bodies but the little pig was very happy and he began to thank God, because he knew he would always be just this little bit peculiar.