Distraction
By: Elyse Bruzdzinski
Gentle slopes and curves outline the effortlessness of the female form.
Funny how something so primal and geometric can cause such havoc.
We are taught early on that these curves and slopes have no formula and in the real world you cannot calculate what you will get.
But dress up these figures, and suddenly you have an expression, a puzzle to solve for each and every girl.
Find X.
The combination sex sells and sex cells work in cohesion for the high school girl.
The problems get harder, as the people around you multiply and your friends subtract.
The division between woman and girl dissipates, you become whole, rounding up and out.
Your body becomes your problem.
Picking the right outfit; the addition of the sweater because the bareness of something as simple as your shoulders…hint.
They hint at sexuality.
Oh so close to the bareness of a breast, which is something you learn cannot and will not be tolerated.
It was in 7th grade I found that I didn’t really like math.
It was also in 7th grade that I became a distraction. I became a threat to the education of my fellow students, a danger to eyes of adult faculty…
An object of a person with a purpose to watch what I do, how I do it…
And most importantly,
What I wear in the midst of it all.
Except, I’m writing with a pen, and if I make a mistake there is no erasing because scratches remain on my paper; much like that of mistakes in a reputation.
It’s an unsolvable problem.
Being the variable in an expression of unwarranted distraction, tempted to multiply with the fear of subtraction, knowing the only weapon you have is a simple statistic or fraction.
I do not want to be a distraction.
