My handsome, popular older brother feigned ignorance of my identity as I walked down the halls while my mother accused me of actively trying not to fit in. I knew, with the iron certainty that only the young possess, that no one would ever understand me.
Then I discovered the X-Men.
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If only the Dandy and the Beano could have done the same for me. Damned British comic culture.
Is everyone involved with games working from a hellish school experience of alienation? Escapist indeed! Heroic escapism exists to give everyone hope and new perspective, so yay for them and yay for those of us who have found a way to be comfortable with who we are.
One side of the collar popped up, the other side down. Also, one red sock.
Hm...what does it say about me that in reading the X-Men I never identified with anyone but Deathbird? I mean it'd be one thing if I was the older sister, but um...I was the little sister in all the same classes as my older sister (yah, guess how much freakin' fun that one was...)