Sometimes I feel that this space has been created for me to write about the things I discover that aren't connected to my individual existence, but are universal (I think) in an attempt to avoid the trap of mulling over problems and whinging.
But I made this space, and I'm the sole contributor, I never set any rules, so I will write about myself.
And my individual experience isn't meant to be entrapped in my head or my body, because if that were the case I would be a rock. I was made with a mouth and a mind and so were you, and I guess that makes us similar enough for my story to resonate with whatever yours is. Once the words are out there minds connect and dialogue flows and from that point, unity is approachable. At the moment our society is a bunch of gravel on a driveway... we're just little rocks that get run over all the time and we can't even talk about how much it hurts. When difficult things happen in our lives I think it is crucial to be capable of talking about them without feeling guilty or afraid or alone. Shame fear and loneliness will eat your soul.
Essentially my current situation is understanding what "otherness" is. If I were an anarchist I would say that it doesn't exist, but there are trends in human behaviour and any trend results in a norm, and any norm excludes others that don't conform to it, so "otherness" does exist. Simultaneously there are communities of "others" in which their "otherisms" are common custom, so depending on what level you want to observe society you could say that otherness is irrelevant because others create a space to house their own breed of normalcy, or you could say on a grander scale that we are divided into the normals and the abnormals.
Being "other" means this: having a distinct self-awareness of your inability to be average. Everybody in some way is different, and their differences can be like giant red arrows hovering over their heads in particular situations, like being half the height of most people for example. Or their differences might not be visible. Maybe there are perks to being half the height of everyone else, I'm not sure. Some people enjoy their inability to be average, sometimes it's painful, sometimes it's irrelevant, sometimes it's consuming. Sometimes it's forced from you and sometimes it rustles through other peoples comfort zones.
I think I am okay with the ways in which I am incapable of being average. It's those invisible comfort zones that act as floaties around the waists of people adrift in a sea where who knows what weirdos swim that one doesn't want to accidentally deflate because that can cause thrashing and panicking... But it's their responsibility to learn how to swim and you can't carry around a packet of band-aids to plug up all the punctures because they get wet in the water.
What I grapple with is how love can cause other people pain, although I feel that the people who will be pained might be seeing things from a superficial vantage and not comprehend the simplicity and honesty of a situation that isn't about them anyway...
But I made this space, and I'm the sole contributor, I never set any rules, so I will write about myself.
And my individual experience isn't meant to be entrapped in my head or my body, because if that were the case I would be a rock. I was made with a mouth and a mind and so were you, and I guess that makes us similar enough for my story to resonate with whatever yours is. Once the words are out there minds connect and dialogue flows and from that point, unity is approachable. At the moment our society is a bunch of gravel on a driveway... we're just little rocks that get run over all the time and we can't even talk about how much it hurts. When difficult things happen in our lives I think it is crucial to be capable of talking about them without feeling guilty or afraid or alone. Shame fear and loneliness will eat your soul.
Essentially my current situation is understanding what "otherness" is. If I were an anarchist I would say that it doesn't exist, but there are trends in human behaviour and any trend results in a norm, and any norm excludes others that don't conform to it, so "otherness" does exist. Simultaneously there are communities of "others" in which their "otherisms" are common custom, so depending on what level you want to observe society you could say that otherness is irrelevant because others create a space to house their own breed of normalcy, or you could say on a grander scale that we are divided into the normals and the abnormals.
Being "other" means this: having a distinct self-awareness of your inability to be average. Everybody in some way is different, and their differences can be like giant red arrows hovering over their heads in particular situations, like being half the height of most people for example. Or their differences might not be visible. Maybe there are perks to being half the height of everyone else, I'm not sure. Some people enjoy their inability to be average, sometimes it's painful, sometimes it's irrelevant, sometimes it's consuming. Sometimes it's forced from you and sometimes it rustles through other peoples comfort zones.
I think I am okay with the ways in which I am incapable of being average. It's those invisible comfort zones that act as floaties around the waists of people adrift in a sea where who knows what weirdos swim that one doesn't want to accidentally deflate because that can cause thrashing and panicking... But it's their responsibility to learn how to swim and you can't carry around a packet of band-aids to plug up all the punctures because they get wet in the water.
What I grapple with is how love can cause other people pain, although I feel that the people who will be pained might be seeing things from a superficial vantage and not comprehend the simplicity and honesty of a situation that isn't about them anyway...
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