Differences - Blog Posts

»Look,« I say, »There's Venus, the evening star, named after the godess of love and beauty, because in the night everything can be pretty.«

You don't answer, you don't even look up from the ground where you've been pulling out blades of grass.

»See,« I say, after some time of you staring at the ground and me staring at the sky, »There's Ursa Major, a polar bear to guide us on our way.«

This time you let out a little »hmmp« sound, but you continue your activity of strewing grass over your legs.

»From there,« I say, after I've waited for you to say something, anything, »You can find Ursa Minor, with the North star to protect us.«

Now you sigh very silently, maybe you're tired or bored.

»Over there,« I say, pointing into the sky, »Is Orion, the hunter, to bring clarity to our journey.«

You hum under your breath, examining a leave with more interest than you've ever showed me.

»And this,« I say, one last attempt to talk to you, »Is Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, resident in Canis Major, to help us-«

Before I can end my sentence, you get up from the ground brushing the grass from your trousers, and all I can do is watch your silhouette against the night sky, as you wander away from me.

I don't see you often in the following months, and now youre looking at the sky, now that I can't see it through the ground.

Haha, too bad fuckers. I don’t actually have any followers so I’m going to shove down all your throats. >:)

The horrors in which our world is shaped—the way it fleets and falls, bends only to disrupt— are not so apparent when you grow so accustomed to humanity. Focusing on nothing else but your fellow species—how you guide or succumb to the very rules you aren’t aware you follow. Once everyday begins to feel the same with your mundane chores and work schedule, you begin to believe every single day is the exact same. Without noticing the person who called out to you hasn’t left their home in months.

Without noticing the dying plants beneath your feet that never regrow due to the traction of hundreds of others. Do you notice exactly how many people smile everyday, how many others lead destructive lives? No; how are you meant to? You focus on the exhaustion you feel, the pain you’ve learned to encumber. The learned smile that fades when no one is near, the anxiety you suppress simply to get by. How many others feel the same? How many others will never let in on the giant secret that everyone contains?

The horrors in which our world is built upon don’t lie simply in the humanity of it all. If you are especially empathetic, you may notice how wolves tear apart their prey, or spiders trap theirs. How certain species—what we’ve named—manipulate their food in order to live. Do we draw the line at survival, or is horror how we live our lives? Playing willfully ignorant to ensure our days run better.

The horrors in which our society is built upon—manipulation, deceit, mutilation, dread—go ignored in light of a better life; a world we deem perfect—impossible to en capture. The way we are all so uninspired— feigning happiness in our impossible-to-enrapture world. A house so filled with dread, a twin you feel magnetized to, a city encompassed in hate—they all become normal. A mundane piece of life.

Perhaps that is where our genres originate. A romanticization of our own world, a necessary form of escapism so our lives aren’t as apprehensive. However unenthused our genres become, how cliché and unoriginal our creations turn into, we all live the same lives where an escape is deemed a necessity.

Our authors and artists deemed hopeless in a world dependent on their creations—however dull they may be. A horror-stricken world that feigns self-reliance, one so positive it is built on self-assurance. Allow us our creations, no matter how depraved, allow us our intentions to bring forth the true dreads in our world.

We crave peace in a war-stricken earth and creativity where it is suppressed. We all wish our version of good in this world and we all tear our humanity away from our very souls. Those of us who crave violence and those of us who crave peace are all the same in our creative fields. In our obligations and moralities. We wish for light, we wish for dark; we all wish for our own contradictions.

The way we tear apart, bend, misconstrue and manipulate—how we bring satisfaction and trust to only those of us “deserving”—how we trap, misalign, subdue, willfully ignore… and destroy.

Perhaps that is what creates our horror—in which our world is shaped.

Haha, does anyone want to read a little thing I wrote?

I am not a ghost.

I don't have a job. I have always had a hard time making money. I will not show you my tits or do sexually charged things with you. I won't constantly stroke your ego. I can't connect you to anyone "important". I won't agree with everything you say or do. I won't laugh at stupidity with you. I don't think life is always easy nor do I feel that easy is always the best idea. No, I won't make sure to maintain a certain "appearance", I don't even wear make-up. While I do understand that money is a "need", waving your net worth at me will not impress me. I strongly believe in effort, learning, and making constant adjustments. I have often put a lot of energy into helping others but I have finally also accepted that I deserve acknowledgement and help as well.

I know. I understand. More than one human has explained that I am simply being too difficult and that's why I can't connect. I get it BUT, I also understand that I'm not invisible. Just because I am not one to conform to common behavior patterns does not mean that I deserve to be treated like I am even less noticeable than the homeless person you happily see as either a problem, or a way to feel better about yourself by donating to the charity case. I am very much alive. I too have feelings. I... am not a monster... or a ghost! I am simply different. I don't want to be medicated or changed so I can be more "normal". I just want to be me, and be accepted as human. Yes, I know... good luck with that. Humans can't even seem to get beyond skin color so why would I expect my list of differences to be accepted? meh... A girl can dream.