I feel cheap, used, consumed. I feel like I'm destined to have a single purpose, and once that purpose is fulfilled, I'm nothing; I'm zero, though I exist, I have no purpose or function. I'm merely a pattern of billions of atoms, arranged intricately, but for no purpose. I also feel self-conscious, vain, and most of all, disdain. I must endure the small whispers and snippets of gossip I pick up when I walk into a room, or when walking out of. I draw a glare of hate, and then a shrug of the shoulders and a painstaking indifference to my presence, I'm simply a thing to blend into the background, a mere vestige of a worn cog, it's function and power reduced to little more than nothing, only to be commented on and belittled, gossiped on and schemed against. And on all top of that, the reason for all these feelings of bitterness and scorn, is a simple night out with friends. A simple movie with a few peers, a common thing in the world, yet, even though it is so common, I still kindle harsh and strong emotions from it. Scorn and distaste for the girl who laughs a little too loud at every joke, or ends up gasping and sputtering after every scare, or reveals every little plot line a few seconds before the audience does; You ma'am, are a fitting target of my dislike. Then, there are feelings of humility, and shame, at the manipulator, the girl who played me, the girl who saw me only as pawn in her game of chess to use as she saw fit, and use me she did; the extent of her using being little, yet invoking a lot from me. (I understand I'm fucking these semicolons us, I'm a below-average writer, bear with me) She simply nudges me in the direction she chooses with a coy smile, and a wink. Finally, there are small, growing feelings of annoyance at the most innocent girl of all, the crush. She makes it obvious enough, with every little throw her head, every laugh just a little too forced, every smile just a little too warm and friendly to be genuine. She comments positively, and pathetically, at every observation and quip I make, her only intent on improving my image of her, but, ironically, failing utterly at the task, as my dislike of her grows with every buttered word and sugared phrase. Her barely subtle, hardly innocent, "Accidental" bumps into me only chip away a deeper pit of disdain for her, each word and gesture carving an even more intense image of annoyance. So, in short, I went to the movies a little happy and smiling, I came back humiliated, annoyed, bitter, fearing, jittery, and most of all, unhappy. Though it may be rude, and sexist; you girls, with your barbed comments and sharp minds, with your enticing bodies and seductive gestures, you, are the focal point of my bitterness. Your competitiveness and inclination towards tearing each other down, at any cost, has forced a loss of some faith, in humanity in general. Though the statement is cliched, I and to some, sexist, after tonight, I can understand why women are called bitches.