Civilized

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I saw someone on the internet saying that to be cringe is to be free. And yet I suck my stomach in, straighten my spine, adjust my hair so that it falls into perfect curls on my left shoulder at a party just so that I don't get called weird. Although civilized would be a better word. It's funny, the irony of it all. The things society tells us to do versus how it reacts to those. Yet there's that little smirk curling up at the corner of my lips as I stare into my fizzy drink and play with the straw, eyes on the crowd around me, mind somewhere else entirely. A world of my own. A world where I don't need to be civilized. Or cringe. I can just be..me. I won't wipe my makeup off after going home, for a start. I know that. I know that I'll spend a considerable amount of time staring into the mirror, playing with locks of my hair, the laces on my dress, acting like I'm walking a red carpet. And the audience is my own reflection. And it makes me laugh, how I know myself so well. How I can have the time of my life while doing the little, silly things. And I'm still gazing into the mirror, wondering why I needed to be cringe or civilized, why I needed to fit into a box, when I could just be silly and...human. 

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