Being Different Is A Good Thing


Surrounded by trees, surrounded by buildings made of iron and concrete, surrounded by people who are obliged to love me, surrounded by people I’m obliged to hate,

people with white skin wearing white coats, people with black skin wearing black coats, and I’m wearing blue, so I stand in a different line, with a different coloured tie, and a different hairstyle, all the people in the white and black coats stare at me, making me feel bluer than my coat, is it so bad to be different than others?

surrounded by people who are obliged to hate me, surrounded by people I’m obliged to respect even though they hurt me all the time, surrounded by languages I’ve never heard, surrounded by friends and enemies I don’t remember making, why is so hard to forget and overlook some things?

I want to go back to my room, where only I exist, and I can lie on my bed for hours and not say anything, nobody tells me to speak, I don’t have to force myself to be happy, I don’t have to call you by your name to make you turn around and look through me like I’m not there, I don’t have to ring the doorbell and wait for someone to open the door, I don’t have to ring it twice because nobody answered the first time,

I want to go back to my room, untie my shoelaces, drink cold water, and stop listening to music just so I wouldn’t feel nervous about sitting or standing around waiting for my turn to speak,

but my turn never comes, it doesn’t even matter by then, even if I said anything, they wouldn’t understand or worse would misunderstand every word, I would try to explain but nobody’s listening, everyone is talking over everyone else, and nobody minds, will I ever belong somewhere without trying so hard?

I want to go back to my room, I’ll go to sleep, sleep through the weekend, until I’m thrown back into the daily routine, weekends are for people who don’t want to be alone, surrounded by noise, surrounded by people, how is this relaxing to anyone? I’ll never understand them, like they will never understand me.