Until a couple years ago I was obsessed with becoming a ‘bad boy’. I still have hopes of becoming one in the future but something tells me I am not destined to fulfil that lofty dream. Anyway, I always wanted to be a bad boy back in the days because I noticed when I was kid that the bad boys pulled all the stunts, got all the attention, all the girls and when they ran into misfortune everyone would rush to their rescue, being overwhelmed with sympathy.
And the good boys? Well, they did all the work, got zero attention, not a single girl and when they ran into misfortune no one would intervene, the boys being so good they could take care of themselves. That was the general way of things anyway, there was one exception. I happened to know one boy who was extremely good and got everything, arrogant Mr. Perfect, he would always…but I will let him alone.
So, as I said in the opening remark, I was obsessed with becoming a bad boy, a bad boy for life like Puff Daddy or P Diddy or whatever in the devils name he calls himself at present. To help me on my quest, I would sit up all night watching movies and music videos and noting every single thing the bad guys did, so that I could do that also. I put my notes to good use too. I tried wearing my pants backwards like the rap dual Kriss Kross, but that was a failure. I tried booby trapping my house like the Home Alone kid, another failure. I tried so many other things, all failures. My cousin says I made the mistake of emulating the good guys but I think the real problem was that everyone mistook me for a good boy from day one. My mother mistook me for a good son, my sister mistook for a good brother, the kids in my neighbourhood mistook me for a good friend and in school… my teachers went as far as believing me to be a smart kid. As such, all the bad things I did were brushed away as honest mistakes. The reader cannot begin to imagine my disappointment at this large misunderstanding. It was so heart breaking. With everyone not satisfied with the pain they were inflicting on me by suppressing my bad boy image, they went further and loaded me with responsibilities and duties, calculated at it keeping me ever so good.
The ultimate result could not be more than my not at all appealing swagger, overly serious attitude and emotional instability. If I had been let alone to be a bad boy like I always wanted, how would things be now? I would have a girlfriend no doubt and I would be envied and respected by everyone. Looking back now, I feel so hard done by and I will never forg… but these thoughts might trigger my depression, I’m going to bed.