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I Must Be On The Wrong World.

Maybe being "unique" is more difficult than what it already is when struggling to find the ones like you in a society where superficialism is adored, and not only having your own "rare" tastes is something procured to be inhibited, but you have to adapt to the general spirit of a crowd of sheep. I hate it how, progressively, people are preferring, say, the enamoring corruption of cultures propagated by the media, for example, MTV, and the truly important values of loyalty, sincerity, honesty, originality and such, are being forgotten or swiped to the sides.
So, yes, I'm a unique individual, meaning I recurrently get rejected and be looked-at with a phony grin by people who find it uncomfortable to expand their comfort zones of what is considered a recommended person for friendship, people who are close-minded, persons that guide themselves entirely by first impressions or how I dress like or look like in general.
I was born in Mexico City. It's a city of a wide range of cultures and personalities, but I only lived there until being eight-years-old. I don't remember having at least someone who would be happy to spend some time with me on recess, that this person would really like to be next to me and listen to what I liked to share, or viceversa: someone I felt entirely identified with, someone I found it lovely to be his/her friend, now that I recall. It never happened, and I don't know why, but it really bugs me that whatever created my reality stood with its arms crossed. --I don't like to believe I'm a product of cosmic chance and that absolutely everything relies on my hands because it doesn't seem that true to me, since I don't consider myself to be the only race of our class in the Universe of existence. I think something with a consciousness and great powers brought us here, and it had to have good values to be led by.-- Then there was the part of my life when I lived for another 9 years in a city of a conservative, traditionalist, xenophobe and close-minded culture of a population of clearly-marked groups, where I also found it to be difficult to find myself in others. After elementary school, I gradually became more aware of the kinds of social groups that existed around: the main one was that conformed of superficial people who'd identify themselves with costly brands, a rich or recognized family and an attitude of generally being snobby and eager for parties where popularity is inevitably measured with a whole catalogue of gestures and... all of that. Then there were the otakus (I've never been one) and videogame geeks, but don't think they were automatically cool or something, --people there use to create a friends group since early childhood and it's hard to welcome others in their totality after that-- and finally the persons that had specific interests, such as volleyball and watching series like Glee. I never found those in which I'd find me at home and comfortable, and it makes me greatly disappointed about this life and the outer-conception of my existence, because I realize my essence was not heard.
My first year of middle school was tough. I found myself only knowing those that psychologically and socially bullied me before. I only picked up one person I'd consider like a friend: MarĂ­a. The others I had to hang out with eventually ended up turning their backs upon me, and instead couldn't give a damn and proceeded to laugh it off. The rest of mid-school I spent in was in "Centro Educativo Piaget". There was a group that seemed pretty cool: they were people who liked to read, who were pretty secure of themselves, they'd watch anime and underground movies, God knows what else. I never fitted in there. I tried too hard to be like them and finished looking even more ridiculous, and they never really took me seriously. They wouldn't focus on what I had to say or share when hanging out, and it was this endless circle of an effort to understand them, getting tired and getting passive-agressively rejected for being myself. The rest of "friends" I had, which were chosen from various places inside the school (high-school, which I haven't finished due to clinical depression and whatnot) eventually ended up doing the same as well, probably because it was easier or more comfortable. It's something hard to explain if I want to keep it kind of short and simple.
Now, after all the nonsense I've gone through, I live in another city, Querétaro, here in Mexico. It's worse. I don't know anybody, and the only family I got here are just a bunch of cold apathetics who just act like they accept me and love me for who I am, and have faith in that I'll get trough these difficult times, but they only speak and it's all they do best, just like my mother.
My mother thinks I'm a failure of and individual. Our relationship is quite destroyed to the point we can harm each other. One night we really messed up things, and she called as many people as she could (she said she'd tell what happened to all the family, thus exposing how much of a monster I am). She said terrible things about me, but she wouldn't accept it. SHE LIED TO MY FACE. I can't trust her, can you imagine what it's like to be unable to at least feel accepted by your own mother? What it's like to feel unloved by God himself?
I got some examples of who I'd like to have as friends, which I believe do exist (because it's possible, just as anything you can imagine). People that are TRULY loyal, noble at heart, supportive, empathetic, altruist, fun, charismatic, original, interesting. Are words working? Friends like those of Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Harry Potter, Lizzie McGuire, Twilight Sparkle, Aang. Go ahead and laugh if you want, but I believe myself to be sensible enough in order to understand that there can be individuals out there who could be categorized in, real ones, together.
I am far away from being perfect, but I think I deserve some mercy from this Life. It's horrible to lack someone to talk to, and the best person there could be is a true friend, someone that lends you his shoulder for you to shed tears, gives you a hand to pick you up with a smile, that would be pleasured to receive a call from me and even would fight for my life if I got hit by a car, almost fatally. I'd be honored to be reciprocal, and it shouldn't cost me effort. Psychotherapists ask for much money for just an hour of a chat a week. My family, I don't like them: almost every cousin I got is alike, with the same attitude of expecting a false attitude of joyful teenage energy, or otherwise they fade away. My family is too... phony to actually listen to me and put the arm around my shoulders in symbol of support, in general. I'm tired of all of this. I got no one to talk to without having to omit the ugly parts, no, instead I need to appear to be happy or OK, and talk about whatever there is that is easy to talk about.
In those times when I see my world falling apart around me, and I feel a painful hole in my chest, and I can't get out of my head the ideas that give me reasons to simply hang myself from the ceiling and stop the hopeless suffering of watching my true self be the product of a children's book, it's there when I try to imagine being with them watching the sunset from a tower while delighting myself with ice cream.
I figured out that such a group of true friends is almost always formed by 2 boys and a girl, as a starting-point, at least.


somniatorlupus somniatorlupus 18-21, M Sep 9, 2012

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