Philosophy On Conformity

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Over my seventeen years of living on this Earth, I have developed a sort of Locke(ish?) philosophy on the nature of people. I find myself loving individuals for their honesty about life, themselves, and their history. Put me in a room with one other person for an hour and I will learn more about him than if you put me in the same room with two people for one hundred hours. Sadly, we seldom act as individuals. (Myself included) I learned this very important fact about conformity, and all it took was getting knocked out. People are assholes. I had only recently started going to high school parties. This particular party wasn't supposed to be a party, just around seven or eight people drinking and screwing around; however, someone got…show more content…
What do we have here? Some kids hiding from us?" He walks over to one of the girls lying on the bed and plops down beside her. His weight causes his side of the mattress to act as a black hole, which makes the girl scoot a few inches, as to not get sucked in. "Trying to, but it seems we can't outsmart you. We'll try harder next time." Such a stupid thing for me to say. I wasn't afraid of this person in particular. He was bigger than me, but fat, and not the kind of person to actually fight. I found that most kids won't start a fight unless there are a bunch of that kid's buddies around. I still shouldn't have been a smartass to him though. The only thing he had done was make one of the girls feel a bit awkward. We continued a kind of dialogue which was made of him threatening me and myself trying to make witty retorts. He eventually got sick of me, called me a smartass, and left. I was happy he had left. I wanted to return to pondering these parties. Eventually he came back with some drunken rodeo friends. They all had on ten gallon hats and boots, just like a real cowboy! In the back of their jeans, you could see the outline of a can of chewing tobacco, or dip, or whatever you call it. (I am not a dipping…show more content…
All he did was command me to clean up the mess he made on the carpet. "It's not my mess. You clean it up." I said He threatened to kick my ass if I didn't. I just sat there. "So are you going to fight back?" "I don't see the use. I'm still not going to clean up though." "Alright, well. Get ready for a punch in the face" "Ok" "Ok here it comes" I don't remember much after that. Apparently, he actually did punch me in the face, which surprised me. When he hit me, I fell back and hit my head against the wall. My back also went into a sharp edging of the wall, which created a long deep scratch down it. None of my friends helped defend myself against the cowboy. All they did was film the knockout on the cell phone, and take keys out of my pockets while I was passed out so one of them could make out in the back of my car, and drive the girl home. I don't know where the blonde girl went. Her coke was on the table half-empty. Apparently, she mixed it with some rum or something, and had left with the cowboy who knocked me out. </p> People are assholes. I still love individuals though. I believe in Locke. Hobbes is just too
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