I had made a steadfast and assertive decision "I will change my extraordinarily boring life and develop into a beast I always have something to tell".
My battle plan failed on the second point, which unfortunately turned out to be not that unimportant. Because it took me half a year to make this decision, I simply did not have the time to think that after an A there would be a B, after a 1 another 2, after a hello also a goodbye or after gave birth to death ... well, put that aside. So I stood there with a very wise bit of a decision that was not only completely ill-conceived, but also drove me so insane that I couldn't get over to wondering how I would the hell do it all should get.

I finally decided in my perfect intelligence to make a list with the crowning headline "What will you be".I have to admit it sounded like a typical headline of any youth magazine for job advice, which I didn't really care about at the moment when I was still swimming in the abundance of my intelligence and creativity ... in other words, I had a dash under the signature set. There I was sitting, with a toothpaste smile that was in my opinion cinematic, stapled on my face, funky teen music was playing in the background and my imagination should now be gushing thousands of unbelievable ideas, but I was literally struck by reality. I was some 17 year old lame girl with mousy blonde hair, lame clothes, average grades and I had no fucking idea what I wanted to do to change THAT.

Any other objections ?? The teen music developed into a caustic squeak, so that I took my crumpled cloth slippers and threw it across the room, completely exasperated.Good music off, slippers off and still no trace of an idea ... I just had to see the whole thing from a different perspective ... slipping back into my "It'll be okay" role I grabbed a pink felt pen to put it next to the lavender-colored dash "I'm going to be a popular guy" ... quiet ... finito ... nothing there ... completely impossible, in my absolute intelligence I just couldn't find the reason to greet each other with a kiss on the mouth every morning, then slide elegantly through school and eyed everyone with the most disparaging grin. I don't have to say that I had absolutely no idea how to get close to any chick, let alone a guy, with my miserable looks. Nothing there, just branded as impossible. At least I could build my imaginary ego by having at least an idea.

Good to get a cocoa first, made the whole picture even better and at least I had the opportunity to blame my lack of ideas on the artistic break while drinking.The whole thing didn't last long, however, so that about 10 minutes later I was sitting in front of my almost empty sheet of paper (we want to keep in mind a heading and a crossed-out point anyway) and began to write down all the possibilities that had to be considered.

I sat there with my chest puffed up proudly and examined my magnificent specimen of the list. What was I ... ok, the search for the appropriate or most applicable term I had better postponed to when otherwise. A total of 7 suggestions graced my list and since my glorious IQ just had no end, I finally had the idea to cross the things I thought were COMPLETELY unrealistic, which led to everything but 2 things being crossed off my list within a few minutes . Thanks to my minimal (in a school sense of course) knowledge, it was absolutely suspect to assume I could be top of the class let alone top of school, also the last sporting activities had been climbing stairs, which meant that I could NOT imagine mutating into a sports ace.The next thing that was quickly crossed off my potential "My New Me" list was the Head of School and Goth. I couldn't imagine any teacher carrying his bag afterwards and helping little brats, nor standing with inverted crosses at this crypt faction, they were just too ... freaky for me.

Whimpering, I threw the annoying something from my sister who had decided to enter my room and let me fall back on the chair, holding up a sign of hope. Admittedly, the two points that were still on my paper were not necessarily hopeful or even imaginable to implement, but I needed a few more minutes to bathe in my perfect intelligence before I crossed the two points from my list that indicated that it - the intelligence - was present at least once. I couldn't imagine becoming a potential Barbie doll, as my waist didn't necessarily come close to the appropriate measurements and my other appearance was more like a crippled Shelly.The next point was deleted and the last one shone brightly in front of it and seemed to jump towards me and "Take me!" to roar. Maybe he wasn't that outlandish after all ... although ... not that I harbored any prejudice against her, but her appearance wasn't exactly what could be described as civilized. That was it ... I had found my purpose in life ... I wanted to be a punk!

… Recurring silence… ok I don't have to say that I was still sitting with the pen in my hand in front of my sheet of paper, denying me and suppressing the fact that I had no idea what a punk was exactly. Sure, I knew it was a group of some ... interestingly dressed people who heard songs like "You can fuck me" and "We all fuck the same" and so on, but that was the only thing my overly intelligence brought about. No, I don't need to get the idea that I didn't know anything about them because of insufficient general knowledge ... even a beast consisting almost entirely of brains cannot know everything.But our modern technology made it possible for me to fill the gap in my knowledge immediately ... in other words, 5 minutes later I was sitting in front of my PC and typing punk into the white box on Google. Completely immersed in my peace and joy pancake world, the mouse wandered to the first possible page "Fat punk brides show you their tit ****". Collapse of my whole worldview ... What if a little innocent, pure, sweet, cute, unsuspecting and above all unspoiled child had to look for something about punks as homework and landed on one of those ... tits ???

The next page revealed to me that punk apparently meant something like dirt, trash and trash and that most of them had no future. Second picture destroyed on the day, I don't care half-punk. Defiantly pushing my upper lip forward, I placed my feet on the table and continued surfing the internet. What an ingenious invention, in the past I always had to move my lazy bum and drive to the library and now it was an imposition to bend down for the on button.Punk, Punkrock, Punk'n'Roll, Poppunk, Skapunk, Politpunk, Funpunk, Melodic Punk, Skatepunk, Hardcore Punk, German Punk ??? Ok today the limit of excessive information was clearly exceeded. My brain was of an unnatural size and I was amazed from day to day that my head was not becoming more and more inhuman, but what was too much was too much.