I always knew I was different. It was obvious from the day I was born. I wasn’t like the others around me. But that was fine by me, hell it still is. I don’t want to be like the others around me. I like being different. I’ve always seen the world differently than many others. They saw it as a cruel place that was inescapable but I saw it as my own personal Wonderland. It was the escape. It’s dark and bright, crazy and sane, uncontrollable, untouchable, wanted and not wanted. And I for some reason I find it fascinating. But yet, I couldn’t tell you why. I guess it’s meant to be an eternal mystery to both myself and others. But isn’t that quite fun? The mystery of it all? It makes things less boring. Besides, who would ever want to be bored let alone boring? I guess you could probably tell if you looked into my head that I’m a bit full of myself, that I love myself too much. But that’s just not the case, I hate myself from time to time, I scold myself, hell, I even disapprove and disappoint myself. You know, just to keep the relationship alive. But no one probably understands that. No one understands me. They probably sit there and think that they have me figured out, that they know me better than I know myself, but sooner or later they are going to come to the horrifying discovery that will most definitely tear their whole perfect world apart…they don’t know me. I’m not some open book, I’m a locked PDF file that has been corrupted and now won’t open unless fixed. But you? You can’t fix me. Unless I want you too. But how can one fix someone who doesn’t know they are broken? I have a hole in my wall. It’s pretty big and for the longest time it sat there all out in the open until another hole presented itself in my room. You know what I did with said holes? I covered them up with posters to hide them. They’re not fixed, but you can’t see them anymore now, can you? Out of sight, out of mind. Like my damage, it’s out of sight, out of mind. I guess that’s why I come off so crazy, it because inside I’m fighting to so hard to bury my shattered form like it was a neighbor's dog who I had accidentally ran over. But I guess that b**** doesn’t want to stay down. I read a lot. I guess it’s my way back to the “real world.” Cause like Alice, I too need to leave my Wonderland and books were the only way. That and films. I always wondered if I'd be alone in my life. I think some people find me annoying, too much. I try not be, but you know how it goes: You try to do something to your hardest, but in the end, it just doesn’t work out. But you know what? I don’t let that control. I don’t let that dictate how I go about my life. If anyone finds me to be a problem, that’s on them. I don’t live my days trying to impress the unimpressive. If you don’t like me, that’s your grievance, not mine. I live to my truth. I live to make myself happy in a world that seems to desperately want me to fail and be miserable. But every day is a new opportunity. And I fully intend to take those opportunities and run with them, never for a second questioning whether or not I deserve these opportunities. If I questioned every single thing that has been presented to me in life I probably wouldn’t be writing this post, or even have this blog. I will always strive greatness. What was that quote again? Greatness is not measured by what a man or woman accomplishes, but by the opposition he or she has overcome to reach his goals.” —Dorothy Height
Look out world, a new day is dawning. And I’m prepared to make my mark.
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