I’m reading this book about the films of John Hughes. Of course, I’m rethinking those dreaded high school years.
Sure, I hated high school, but perhaps my animosity towards former classmates is a bit unnecessary. My classmates were not that awful. Many teens have far more unpleasant experiences. Anyway, while reading one of the essays on Molly Ringwald, I realized why I want next to nothing to do with classmates from high school.
Witnesses. They are witness to that life.
And who wants those?