According to Pino.

Monday. Art History.  I know it is a class that is all about participation and getting the thoughts of everyone who wants to give their opinion, but sometimes people need to just stop talking. Every class has those people.  -The same person that always has something to say. I have that in my art history class. He sits right next to me. I'll call him Pino. The worse part is not that he always has something to say, but what he says sometimes, is just ridiculous. Today we we were talking about how people have been socially taught how to know what art is and isn't. Pino raised his hand and said, "Yeah its just like that girl who really liked to dance. You know her? She was, like, in class and she couldn't stop dancing. You see, some people thought she was autistic, but her parents didn't know what to do...
My teacher, Ivan, just leaned against the white bored, trying desperately to follow and understand. "Yeah..." he said, trailing off, covering his mouth, not quite sure what to say. "Anyways," Ivan continued, "from a very young age we are taught that a tree is green and the trunk is brown. Why? Why can we not change that?" 
The whole class was quiet. Then, a hand went up. It was Pino's. "Yeah," he went on. "They found out that that girl loved to dance so much, that they put her in a dance class and she did really well, actually. She has been on broadway and she is, like, really famous now, sometimes." It took the class a moment to realize this guy was serious, and then across the room, someone began to chuckle, then someone else on the other side. It spread like wild fire, but under control. I had to turn my head 180 degrees away from him.
Pino didn't get it. In fact, according to him, we could all learn a few things that only he could share.   Famous dancers, doctors that send little girls to Broadway dance camps and urban button factories, are just a few thoughts the world needs to know, According to Pino.

I will never wear sweatpants in public. -Mostly and only because I care about people thinking I don't care. There will always be people who wear these clothes in public and, I'm sorry, we cannot escape them. Paul and I were thinking this the other day as we came across a sweat-suit coat. Like sweat pants and a sweat shirt, but in the form of a suit coat. "Now, those of you who have given up on society can look nice and STILL be comfortable!!" ...Maybe that was their slogan.
After that, I went to class. As soon as I sat down,  Pino walked in an sat his stuff down and hung his coat on his chair. He went out for a few minutes and I realized the coat he was wearing was the sweat-suit coat. -The very one Paul and I were looking at a few minutes before.  I checked the door to make sure he wasn't there making sure no one would touch it.  I grazed it with my hand. It was nice. Soft between my fingers. Part of me was repulsed by it.
...Another piece of me heard the coat calling to me. A feeling that stabbed morality in the heart.
I quickly pushed it away so it couldn't do me anymore harm.