is the wool over the sheep's eyes?

Somewhere between writing bad poetry, lacking the motivation to study for midterms and feeling physically terrible, I'm believing things are turning around.
I can't say that they were backwards beforehand. Nor will I suppose that they're facing forward now.
They may not have even changed. I might have, instead.
Lately all the politicking with chicken heads and early 20something dyed-blonde girls reminds me where I'm at. Some are just misguided, others are totally lost, checking their GPS on their phones only to realize it isn't where they are but who they are that has them confused.
That's tough to see. I'll guide a bit but I make sure to retain distance since I'm not trying to be their big brother. That problem- the ideals we set out as a society for young women- isn't something I'm planning to fix unless I've got an EMP blast, a loudspeaker and the moral authority to dole out more slaps than linemen on the NY Giants.
I don't find it distressing when smart women can play that role and pop out of it when the situation doesn't call for it. That type of mutability is actually quite attractive. . . there's some mystery to who they really are. . . What is terrible is that so many young girls have internalized these messages and think it's normal. Really, I'm glad you're going to tan your pasty ass off in that victoria secret number that allows uv rays through. 1 question: are you wearing sunblock? No? And why should you?
And no your life won't stop if you can't make it to Cancun, Veradero, or South Beach. And no your worth isn't dictated by how objectified you become ("being meat everyday is devourin'" - common). And no just because you don't have someone you barely know grunting over you isn't a sign that you aren't desirable. It might be, however, a sign of self-respect.
So we arrive: self-respect. I've met and dated enough people lacking in this department and more than anything it really puts me off. Don't be self-conscious, have self-confidence.
That's where I see it falling apart. When their sistren tear them down and prohibit authentic expressions of who they are; those aren't friends, they're competition. Sadly, the winner feels just as empty as the losers. I guess they are friends in that they're part of the same lot.
And that's sad. So many of them could be real if it wasn't for environmental influences.

I'll even give minor props to those despicable 80's headz who're all too enthralled with their indie scene, their tapered-leg jeans, their tights and their distinct femininity. At least you've found an outlet (be it a pretentious one built on fictional, consumerist grounds and hypocrisy).

Whoever you are, it needs to come back to understanding. People today have such daunting social agendas that often they can't connect with someone else because they aren't even sure what they want for themselves. They lack self-identity. They're afraid that a little honest exposure will result in rejection. That's fair but they're also closed-off from real acceptance and maybe even that long U word.

It's funny how people judge you. Lately I was asked what type of music I listen to and (*blog indicative) I briefly waxed on backpack rap, the extinct neo-soul, classic soul (and funk) and reggae. What went from a pleasant exchange became one loaded with judgments about who I was. This person did a 180 and decided not to like me despite the pleasant exchanges before the question of doom.
Well, did that rejection stop me from feeling good about myself? Did the French say "ca discute" in reference to taste?
No. Just because I like something doesn't mean I buy into the industry and culture of capitalism. I guess I could've said "bitch pleazze," tongue poking my own cheek, but then again maybe that subtlety would've been missed.

If there's a point to this post it's to open up a bit and relinquish preconceptions. If it means doing it in front of the mirror or towards others is your decision. Either way, you'll make things a bit better.