what are you looking at?

I am at San miguel's Institute, the house of fashion and glamour. I have to look for this teacher, and as I'm there, I notice something: wherever I go to, there's a group of people pointing at my everyday outfit and giggling. So the transformation begins...
It has been ten eternal minutes that I've been on this fucking place, and I'm lost, 'cause I can't find (not the teacher, forget the freaking teacher) the exit. I start feeling dizzy, and my hands begin sweating. I know myself well enough to know that these signals can't be good.
I'm in the street now, I still don't know how I got to the right door, but I'm out, so I mentally begin to insult everybody in this damn world: the teacher for not being where she was supossed to be (for the record: 'yes, I'll be there for sure, Barbara'), and then these annoying human beings: why do you think you are so much better than me? You don't even know me, and dare to judge me just on my appereance? How pathetic is that? You freaking morons, bastards that think that because a person doesn't wear the appropiate clothes she is below you. Well, you are wrong, you freaks! Iam a person with feelings. I try to be a better person everyday, and sometimes I even manage to do so, oh but that doesn't prove a damn thing to you. I am different, and that gives you the right to believe that you can tease me and make fun of it just so that you can feel well about yourself. Well, fuck you! I am different, but I have the right to inhabit this place, just as you do. And if you don't like me, if you find me so repulsive, don't fucking look! There, that's a magical solution. I have made my good action of the day by teaching you how to ignore me and continue your happy and shallow existance. Honestly man, go to hell!!!