The cool kids come late to the class.
The losers arrive before time.
The cool kids smoke during breaks, often coming later than the allotted fifteen minutes.
The losers are sitting in the class, some napping, some studying, some talking to each.
The losers know everyone by name.
The cool kids know each other but not the losers.
I’m one of the losers (according to the cool kids)
Whaddya think they would expect of a guy who still has a blog that no one ever reads.
But I’m not what they think of me.
I’m only what I think of me.