Last Night

I have a theory. No one likes parties. They just watch many American teen movies, think it's cool and adapt to it.
I much prefer doing maths or something I can do alone that is intellectually stimulating, rather than waste my time pretending I'm having fun.
Last night my friend sent me a snap of my classmate calling me a whore from the party they were at. I don't know what upset me more - being called a whore or having to witness the horror of this party.
I would say I was stunned. As if someone scared me so much I just felt lost. I wanted to cry, but no tears were coming out.
The worst part is that I don't know why I was upset. Its weird.
I'd honestly rather die a slow painful death than having to go through what those people go through to be "cool". I feel comfortable with who I am and do not feel the need to prove to the world I am something I am not. Been there, done that. I want people to be accepted for what they like to do, because I doubt there are as many people that go to parties than there are those who actually enjoy them.

Journaling is not my thing, but this is a thought. Maybe because I don't have time in my schedule for therapy. Oops.