I have no doubt that I was and still am an a*****e -- don't let me paint myself as a victim. But, what I perceived was that after a normal and happy childhood, all at once, the rug got yanked out from under me socially. I didn't become a weird teenager, goddammit! I stayed the same, and everyone else got weird.
The first thing I noticed was that when we hit the middle school years, some guys had mastered the art of being phony. They had, for example, perfected a fake laugh to use when a joke was terrible, but told by someone whose ass they wanted to kiss (usually a pretty girl). That seemed monstrous to me. Aren't you devaluing your real laugh by giving out a counterfeit one? Wouldn't she be offended if she knew you were just patronizing her? Isn't that a form of lying? It's like playing a game with them and letting them win -- a demeaning insult. If you want me to laugh, strumpet, earn it.
"Why would six be afraid of anything? Numbers have no feelings."
Then, I think around age 11, I saw a pretty girl in class drop her pen, and three different guys went diving onto the floor to pick it up. If I dropped mine, they would intentionally kick that s**t under the radiator. If the fat girl with the bad skin dropped hers, they wouldn't even look up from the dicks they were drawing on their notebooks -- their ears were only tuned to the sound of cute girls in need of minor favors. This bothered me even more. Why weren't the pretty girls offended by this? Didn't they see that the rest of us weren't getting doors held open and constant offers of help with homework? That all of the "kindness" was due to their hair and skin and pretty eyes? Wasn't it obvious what these a*****es were doing?