Something must be wrong with me. Something must've ...switched off.
Something must've happened to make me feel this way, else however could it make sense. It can't be labelled as a phase. It isn't temporary.
I've felt this way ever since... I've encountered loss. In any form. At any instance.
Perhaps the forced reflection that came along with it hardened what was once more soft.
People. What is it about them that always gets to me?
What is it about an awkward hello that makes it absolutely necessary for all of us to say it? What compels one to join a social networking site, when its easier - SO much easier to pick up the telephone and dial a number?
What is it about feigned emotions?
Remember those "Count the differences" pictures, where two pictures seem to be identical, but on having a closer look you can point out all of what you missed before? Its just that. Hostility hidden behind your concept of the 'picture perfect'.
Normal people are so hostile. Sometimes we don't even know why we are. Maybe its to get on top, right on top. But apparently its really quite lonely up there.
Norms - You saw your parents do it. You saw your friends do it. You saw the world talk about it. And so its true. We must accept and follow a collective opinion of what is "good" and "bad", and squash our emotions into a little suitcase, which eventually gets stacked behind many others in every last corner of our mutilated hearts; It's only for the greater good you see.
Society accepts us, only after we're done with the accepting.
Parents understand that a fine crystal glass has to be cared for or it may be shattered. But when it comes to their children, they do not seem to know or care that their course of action could bring about the kind of devastation that could cut them.
Ruined forever. The very foundation of us.
All these relationships, 'friends', Marriage - WOW. The mother of all of these... concepts (to say the least)
They don't mean anything to me, god. Even you don't, honestly.
Pandora's Box. Despair. Is that what I'm left with now?
Its not that I don't believe in anything. I feel close to nature.
I believe in a higher power, the universe.
I love my brother alot, sometimes I cry when I watch him sleep at night.
I believe that I can feel these emotions, because I'm human.
But that doesn't obligate me to fake how I feel.
I'm not rash or rebellious. I know its smarter to just "play along" and fit in.
Funnily enough, thats where morality kicks in - and not the kind of morality you hear about all the time. My values belong to me. I follow my own "code".
I think that everytime I mold myself into a new 'version' of me, I kill myself a little bit on the inside. Sure for a moment or two the boundaries fade. I actually feel like I am the person I'm pretending to be. But we'd all be in hell, as Carl Jung would believe, if there was complete congruence between us and 'fake' us.
Emotion is real. Pain is real. Love is real.
So real it'll make you cry. You'll feel the blood run through your veins.
As real as the wind blowing in your face. As the many tall trees which stand together through every thunder storm. As real as the fish in the sea, and the clouds in the sky. You'll be vulnerable in the face of something you have no control over.
It's easy to be satisfied with lies. They're far more comforting, believe me.
But the truth comes along with an instant sense of gratification.
Something to finally fill up the void with.
And if being 'antisocial' (define that now, would you?) means being honest about how I feel towards most people and their respective bullshit, then I'm the meanest person around. I'm absolutely alone.
But if you reach me...really.. reach me, I could be the best friend, obedient daughter. The forgiving sister, the loving wife.
Something must've happened to make me feel this way, else however could it make sense. It can't be labelled as a phase. It isn't temporary.
I've felt this way ever since... I've encountered loss. In any form. At any instance.
Perhaps the forced reflection that came along with it hardened what was once more soft.
People. What is it about them that always gets to me?
What is it about an awkward hello that makes it absolutely necessary for all of us to say it? What compels one to join a social networking site, when its easier - SO much easier to pick up the telephone and dial a number?
What is it about feigned emotions?
Remember those "Count the differences" pictures, where two pictures seem to be identical, but on having a closer look you can point out all of what you missed before? Its just that. Hostility hidden behind your concept of the 'picture perfect'.
Normal people are so hostile. Sometimes we don't even know why we are. Maybe its to get on top, right on top. But apparently its really quite lonely up there.
Norms - You saw your parents do it. You saw your friends do it. You saw the world talk about it. And so its true. We must accept and follow a collective opinion of what is "good" and "bad", and squash our emotions into a little suitcase, which eventually gets stacked behind many others in every last corner of our mutilated hearts; It's only for the greater good you see.
Society accepts us, only after we're done with the accepting.
Parents understand that a fine crystal glass has to be cared for or it may be shattered. But when it comes to their children, they do not seem to know or care that their course of action could bring about the kind of devastation that could cut them.
Ruined forever. The very foundation of us.
All these relationships, 'friends', Marriage - WOW. The mother of all of these... concepts (to say the least)
They don't mean anything to me, god. Even you don't, honestly.
Pandora's Box. Despair. Is that what I'm left with now?
Its not that I don't believe in anything. I feel close to nature.
I believe in a higher power, the universe.
I love my brother alot, sometimes I cry when I watch him sleep at night.
I believe that I can feel these emotions, because I'm human.
But that doesn't obligate me to fake how I feel.
I'm not rash or rebellious. I know its smarter to just "play along" and fit in.
Funnily enough, thats where morality kicks in - and not the kind of morality you hear about all the time. My values belong to me. I follow my own "code".
I think that everytime I mold myself into a new 'version' of me, I kill myself a little bit on the inside. Sure for a moment or two the boundaries fade. I actually feel like I am the person I'm pretending to be. But we'd all be in hell, as Carl Jung would believe, if there was complete congruence between us and 'fake' us.
Emotion is real. Pain is real. Love is real.
So real it'll make you cry. You'll feel the blood run through your veins.
As real as the wind blowing in your face. As the many tall trees which stand together through every thunder storm. As real as the fish in the sea, and the clouds in the sky. You'll be vulnerable in the face of something you have no control over.
It's easy to be satisfied with lies. They're far more comforting, believe me.
But the truth comes along with an instant sense of gratification.
Something to finally fill up the void with.
And if being 'antisocial' (define that now, would you?) means being honest about how I feel towards most people and their respective bullshit, then I'm the meanest person around. I'm absolutely alone.
But if you reach me...really.. reach me, I could be the best friend, obedient daughter. The forgiving sister, the loving wife.
