Pass your judgement over the old stone wall, I’ve heard it all.
An impenetrable wall surrounds me, protecting me from the uncontrollable outside elements. Outside sits a guard, a watchman standing duty in the off chance the wall becomes weak. If cracks take root and my wall begins to crumble, I know my guard will be there until repairs can be made. Conveniently cloning himself whenever the damage is too wide spread for one man, assuring nothing gets through.
The four stone walls surrounding me, protect me but the same four walls entrap me. They do as well at keeping me in as they do at keeping others out. But here’s where things get tricky, because you see, the wall is invisible. I, nor you, can see it but there it sits. Blocking me from having any real connections to the world. Leaving me lonely and restless.
Only a few have been allowed behind the walls, each left running for the hills because most often, the truth is too dirty, offensive or complicated. Always proving to be too much for anyone who is lucky enough to fall under the norms of society – though lucky to them is unfortunate to me. Normal is a set of standards I’ve never been able to fall under, no matter my level of effort to appear socially acceptable.
No one told me that to be ones self, to be unique, or different, could leave you feeling so alone. No one told me that it’d be difficult, sometimes near impossible to find another like you. No one said standing out from the crowd would leave me on the outside, looking in – wishing anyone would look my way or utter the simplest of introductions “hi”.
Okay, maybe not anyone. I don’t want to chat about the weather. I can do without the small talk. I want to climb into your mind and swim around through your thoughts. Give me your theories, conspiracy or otherwise. Tell me your fears, however irrational they might be. Feed my soul with a piece of yours, show me who you are. Remove your facades and let your true colors shine through, however abstract they might be.
But whatever you do, don’t limit me to what you think you see, because some images are never what they appear to be; don’t label me a worthless book before taking the time to read my pages. I’m hidden. I’m quiet. I have a horrid case of bitch face but that’s a problem easily erased by the right people. I’m always black and white until you place me in the right light, then I shine like a prism in the sun. Colors so vivid you could taste them and if you know nothing of tasting a color then I’m sure we can’t possible be friends anyways.
28 yrs and counting, one day I’m destined to find my people.