scared

Today, in no less than five hours, we're going to meet the brats for the first time. THE BRATS, I say, and mean the kids aged 13 to 16 with whom we'll do our theatre project. The play is Eric Bogosian's Suburbia, and if the brats are anything like the characters in the play, I'll top myself. Seriously. Thing is, though, that they'll probably be worse. It is not without a good reason that we've applied for funding under the headline: Theatre Project for Socially Disadvantaged Youths.

I don't know why, I really can't say why, I've absolutely no fucking idea why I think that my looks matter in this respect. I somehow feel the urge to adapt to their way of dressing. Considering that I am slightly older and come from a totally different social and geographical background, this just has to end in a catastrophe. I am not fucking fifteen anymore, and I had better come to terms with it. Nevertheless, I feel that I am inadequate. Especially, when it comes to my looks. But then, will they care? I doubt it. I've heard several times now from their social workers that they despise students no matter what they look like.

Let us hope for the best, expect the worst (namely that they don't turn up at all), and yet be curious all the same. Wish me luck, I'll tell you how it went.