Be More Chill (Ned Vizzini) – Everything About You Is So Alive!

Don’t we all crave the title ‘popular’? To not stand awkwardly in the hallways and brun from bullies who are hell-bent on making your non-existent reputation worse, to just be accepted and revered and just…be more chill?

Ned Vizzini wrote ‘Be More Chill’, an accurate representation of teenagers, how wild they can get and just how far they will go to get what they want. This book was turned into a play and later, an off-broadway musical.

Jeremy Heere and his best friend Michael Mell are losers for obvious reasons. Jeremy believes he has no chance with theatre kid Christine until…he gets a squip. When his former bully Rich recalls his tale of how it takes him from sad to interesting to hip, Jeremy knows he just has to get his hands on one.

He’s willing to ditch it all, his parent’s trust, his dignity, his best friend…all to get popular.

The SQUIP is a small supercomputer that analyzes social situations and then provides the best reaction to it, causing people to start to get attracted to you, making you popular.

And who will refuse you when you’re popular?

The mindset of every character is very real and if you heere (pun intended) Jeremy’s thoughts, you’ll probably remember a situation where you thought the same thing. He wants Christine, and he believes the only way to get her is by being popular. Unfortunately, you have to make sacrifices and during the ‘bathroom intervention’ scene Jeremy knows he’s in too deep, shutting down Michael and leaving him in the bathroom to cry to himself.

Jeremy realises too late that the SQUIP was a bad idea, and manages to repair his relationships. He realises that his successful interactions with Christine only occur when the squip was off, and that he’s uncomfortable in situations that ‘popular’ people get into.

He’s just happy with being him, and that’s all he should be.

Michael says: “I could stay right here, or disappear and nobody would notice at all.” 

Sometimes we feel like we could just disappear into nothing and because we’re not the in crowd, no one would care. But, just like how Jeremy comes back for his Player 2, there is always someone who cares, someone who you are important to

The SQUIP, to me, is a metaphor for the stereotypical person you are forcing yourself to be. You believe everything about you is so terrible, you need to be that impeccable image to be accepted. You watch someone else transform, and then suddenly you realise you can too, without thinking of the repercussions.

For some, being popular is a natural thing. Their personality is just wired that way. You don’t have to be them, if that’s not the way you are comfortable. You are the way you are, and you cant let anyone else ridicule you for you, you need to stand up, not think that you are unacceptable in society.

You cant let people get to you, because no one else can have the same sense of humour or the same gawky smile or the same interest in old vintage games, but you!

And who knows, one day the type of person you were will be deemed ‘popular’.

(I’ve linked in the songs where i’ve used the lyrics!)



My very being is a dark bottle
Filled with a mess of emotion
That twists and turns and knots itself into
Pain, sadness and hatred

But that bottle
Is covered with a white sheet
So it pretends it doesn’t exist

The white sheet embodies
Pure, happy, joyful thoughts
And embroidered on its surface
Is one word, one vital instruction


The Words I Say

I was only 13 when I locked out my friends,
Said I never wanna see ’em again.
They creep, they creep
Under the door,
Tryin’ to get into the fort that I’ve made
Around myself.
These fears, these worries
The’re tryna’ get to me.
And I’m afraid, yeah, I’m afraid,
That’s, oh, it’s working.
The words I say, choke my throat
I can’t say anything more,
I need to say something more than what I never did.
Will I be my worst regret?
I don’t want anyone near me,
I don’t wanna see them cry.
I want you to leave me alone,
I don’t want you to try!
I know I can’t be saved,
Pick up the shards of my broken being.
Give me a nice send-off,
And when you come down to hell,
Come see me.
The words I said, choke my throat
I won’t say anything more,
I should have said something more than what I never did.
I am my worst regret.
No, no, no.
My head is spinning,
My blood is rushing,
The tears are flowing.
And then I see your face,
Are you upset? Relieved? Dissapointed?
You rush towards me,
I collapse, a sobbing mess
But you catch me.
And the tears flow again.
“Please help me,” I sputter,
The words I said, free my throat.
I don’t need to say anything more,
I’ve done what I needed to do.
I am getting better.
I am getting better.

She is Different Now

The girl I love
Is amazing, beautiful and strong
Can weave words into beautiful pictures
Of courage, love and epiphany
And believed in herself and us
More than I did

Her eyes shone bright
When she spoke about us
When she spoke about things she loved
And I loved it

No other I’ve seen can hold a candle to
Her fire, that burns so bright

She is different now
Not any less amazing, beautiful or strong
She no longer believes in herself
She no longer believes in us

Bangles of blood adorn her wrists
And she craves that pain
For reasons I cannot fathom
She is so smart, so talented
She can bend words to her every whim

But now
She bends them against me
Hiding herself behind
A wall of false words
“I’m fine” “I’m okay” “I’m cold”

But her eyes
Those eyes that once shone with laughter
Now revel in the depths of sadness

Imploring me to push forward,
To stay
Even if her words say otherwise

So I push on
Staying there
Holding on
Smiling, laughing
Even though
Every time I see the pain
Reflected in her eyes
I am broken a little more

Come out
Speak to me

I am okay with anything
As long as you’re okay

You can cry and scream
And feel like you’re a mess

But promise me that
I’ll see you again tomorrow.


I am consumed

By torrents of emotion that rage through me

Gripping my very being

And twisting out a scream of pain

By my scream is silent

For they all are watching me

Searching for any sign of weakness

I catch it in my throat

Forcing it down

Telling myself no


What if everyone saw?

What if everyone knew?

Would they like what they see?

Most likely,

They’d hate it too.

Hands to my throat

Force it back down now



I can’t!

I can’t.

I can’t scream.

I can’t cry.

I can only smile

And choke down that scream

By whom I am consumed.

But then I feel it.

Hands, eyes, words

That chain my throat

Hands of fake friends I am forced to keep

Judging eyes that search for my soul

But worst of all – words.

Words that society has forced on my mind

Festooned into rough ropes

That cut my neck

When I try to move

Choking my scream,

Making sure I’m inaudible

So no one can hear

My plea for help

No one can pull me out of

The scream

That consumes me

And the ropes

That bind me.

Zara, Leave

“I can’t quite contain, or explain my evil ways, or explain why I’m not sane, all I can say is this is your warning.” – Duality, by Set It Off


Zara, leave me alone!

No, I won’t go.

Zara, go be free.

No, I won’t leave.

Why can’t you see,

The monster is me,

The end of my sanity.

Why won’t it go?

Oh, I don’t know.

Why can’t you stay?

Zara, please don’t play.

I know, you warned me
But it’s here I’d rather be,
Than somewhere safe and free.

I can’t quite explain how or why!

I know, I won’t pry,

About the monster inside.