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Funny how they say that there is no right or wrong--only difference, yet people insist on judging actions and ideals when no rubric exists. How can my opinions be wrong if I keep them to myself and use a guide that is only familiar to me? What sense does it make to judge people by standards only you have? In one person's eyes, there could never be a champion--no one could ever be good enough.
It's funny how I come across as so distant from everyone around me, placed on some pedestal or in some trophy case in a completely different room than everyone else, as if I am some special rare breed of human that will be tainted if I interact with all the locals. Perhaps I do this to myself; maybe this is why I see the world from behind a window, observe but never experience the way my peers do; they make being ordinary seem so simple. Yet all my attempts never leave my mind.
It's hard for me to reach standards, especially the ones set for me. I can't even make my own knowing that it will be inspired or based off what someone else desires for me. Perhaps it is the rebel in me; reluctant to accomplish anything at all because I know that so many people count on it and want with so much of themselves for me to do so. Something in me just halts; automatically says no. I find myself wasting time I don't have, ending my life a minute at a time.
Preparation is a big word--its implications are far larger than I could've imagined two years ago. Two years ago I only wanted opportunity, simply the chance to be in a position where I could procrastinate, could be faced with an important decision only to sit on the sidelines and comtemplate every course of action until the opportunity leaves me. Now I only want someone to waltz in on my life and make these decisions for me. I tell myself I'm a leader, but I am a reluctant one.
I want to follow. No one wishes to lead me.
Is this a twisted curse? A reversed punishment for those who already have a fate set in stone, a destiny that was carved into their bones the second they were delivered? How can it be that I am forced to be something more than anyone around me, yet the exact nature of that something is for me to define and label? Half-assed directions. My whole life.
All or nothing, they say. Go for it all or go home. The idea that you can be forced into the situation, plopped right into the middle without an intro or a prologue and be left to figure it out all on your own with half the world looking at you from behind a two-sided mirror, shaking their heads when you make a mistake. The back of my mind is cluttered with things I should be doing. Things I have to do if I want to have a future. Things I let just sit there, collecting dust and pretending I don't feel the little nudges and kicks they give my conscious every now and again. It's all so unimportantly important that it hurts.
They think I'm weird, you know. They think The Idea goes beyond normal, beyond the maximum of what an average individual can accept while still feeling okay about it. They don't understand that they aren't expected to agree or even understand. They aren't expected to do anything but listen; to allow my words to have a place inside some distant crevice of their minds, so when The Idea become fact and my words law, no one will be surprised or shocked. I don't wish to inconvenience anyone.
At first The Idea was just a passing thought; I said it jokingly as a reflection on all the incredulous chaos that surrounds life on a daily basis. The Idea was meant to be a sarcastic extreme. It was only when I realized that an extreme was the solution. Go from teetering on the edge, playing with fire to being thrust over the cliffs into oblivion; taken by the hand and led into a reeling waltz. Maybe the world needs to be shaken a little harder, a little more intentionally. Subtlety only leaves us on a leash.
We need drastic measures and theatrics to make us FEEL. The world isn't a painting roped off and sterilized to be peered at skeptically through a glass. The world is real; it requires the use of senses. Touch the world and realize for the first time that many of its troubles are only errors, simple flaws easily remedied if we would only FOCUS. Life is important. Primary. Everything else should fall behind.
Shouldn't we try to fix this? Shouldn't there be some kind of Swiffer Sweeper we can pull out of the closet and use to clean up our mess? Why does every issue have this foreboding atmosphere of permanence?
Instead of trying to fix the a broken ladder by starting at the top rung, we should start at the bottom, at the very root.
Perhaps mankind itself is the cancer, and everything else is the spreading epidemic; the after effects. Someone should be looking for a cure to the real problem. Unless of course everyone likes being a failure, and once again I'm just the outcast.
 Profane Peace · Sat Oct 06, 2007 @ 04:30am · 2 Comments |
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