Headphones: A Draft

Sharing headphones is not an easy task.
You've got to want to listen to the same kind of music.
You've got to prefer the volume at the same certain level.
Your share of music coming through the headphones has to satisfy you; missing, at times, the lead vocals.
Your body movements have to be in tune. So that, when you're standing in the corner of the classroom and dancing to the Beatles, your half of the headphones should stay fixed in your ear while you make sure you're not pulling out your best friend's half.

My best friend through high school was Sena. I met her in primary school, when we both were 7. Primary school is the place that you think you have left far behind, but is so close that you fail to recognize. I always like to think I assembled my parts in high school, or changed my ways drastically in college years, but I'm wrong: I'm scared of arguing with women, because I subconsciously fear they are going to attack me or pull my ears. I'll sing in front of so many people and yet no one will understand how nervous I am. Life without Sena is just not right. It's basically primary school.
I'm scared of arguing with women, because our primary school teacher was this middle-aged, disciplinary-minded lady, who pulled our ears and gave us looks like lightnings flashing in our brains. Even my dad had his share of her dress-downs. She had never been married.
The singing in front of so many people and not looking nervous comes from primary school as well, as every music class I had assumed the duty of going up and performing songs selected from national charts and world charts, oldies and Eurovision pieces.
Sena and I were like two sticks walking around, usually bent with incessant laughter.

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