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The Ramblings of an Individualistic Cynic
A lone fragment of frost is cascading down from the overcast sky. Such bravery to be that first snowflake to touch the undisturbed surface of Earth. A passion burns within that frozen shell, a passion to be the first, a passion to be seen, a passion to be known. To what lengths would that frigid hero go to ensure his goal? What secrets lay hidden in that complex design of sleek snow? It is left merely to speculation, for only it knows the answer to define itself.
How am I like this snowflake? The answers are limitless in the parallel comparison. Much like the uniqueness of the snowflake, I am a unique human being. But every human is unique in some way, shape, or form. What truly makes me unique? I am individual, that is what makes me unique. Individuality is a dying disease in this world as the times rapidly change. A disease that those who don't know better vainly try to administer the vaccine for. Conformity is the norm and people strive to be normal, don't they? Why is this? What do you gain from being just like those who are no better than you? No one is above anyone in this world. But that is the ignorance that blossoms among this disgusting breed we call humans. We are savage. We are blind. We are deaf. We are ignorant. Yet, we don't even realize it. One must step outside his or her self to examine the mannerisms we display to truly understand the concept. Only then can one conclude that conformity is eating away at what we assume is a thriving society.
I am no simpleton. Intelligence is required to examine these hidden motives that plague the human mind. The motives that drive us to be just like those thrust onto the pedestal of a perfect society. Perfection is unattainable - I know this. Superficiality reigns victorious in a world full of human beings struggling for acceptance, though. Every single human on this planet dons a mask. A charade. A feeble attempt to hide what exists underneath. I am guilty of this fault just as you all are too. What drives us to forcibly attach this mask to our faces permanently? Why do we surround our bodies in the shroud of fallacy? Why do we pretend to be something we're not just for the insignificant acceptance from other human beings?
Because we crave that social interaction. We thirst for the attention of others. No one wants to glide through life as an anonymous specter. We want to be on the stage with those around us eagerly watching in the audience. Thus is the aim of virtually every human being. We will go to extreme lengths to achieve this. We don that mask of charades. We display our vibrantly shimmering peacock foliage. Anything to gain the acceptance of those we seek to know. Superficiality is spreading throughout the world like a virulent plague. The thief of free thought and individuality must be brought to justice, but it is impossible when those capable of doing so have already fallen victim to it.
I am that anonymous specter, however. A role I freely accepted with eager anticipation. I am the shadow on the wall of society. I am the unseen ear and eye. I am the happy outcast of my peers. I am a child of the condemned. I am the observer of the human race, and my findings are appalling. But being that only I seem to understand my intricate mind, I do not disclose this information to those would should rightfully know. I possess the necessary information to absolutely ruin people, but I choose not to. Why? Pity. Nonchalance. Apathy. I could care less how the people around me choose to end their lives before they've already begun. I worry about myself and myself only. You want to do drugs? Fine. You want to drink? Fine. You want to have teenage sex? Fine. My conscience is clear knowing I'm above that type of ridiculousness as it creates far less problems for me. I have no obligation to help those around me that know full well the ramifications of their actions. I am a person of good moral standing, but I draw the line in certain areas rather than be sucked into the drama spawned from it. I take pride in knowing that I won't regret the choices I made in the future. Will you?
I must confess to hypocrisy at this point. I too, as individualistic as I am asserting to be, fall to the allure of putting on my mask. But my mask is decorated with a different scheme and I know when to take it off. Why do I do it? As I reasoned earlier, I do it for the acknowledgment, for the reaction. My mask is adorned with exaggerated cracks painted crimson red. Underneath, incarnadine remnants are nowhere to be seen. Why? Because I am not who I claim to be. I am not the desolate soul I paint myself to be. I am not hanging on to my last thread, rather I am soaring on my carpet of woven thoughts. I am not submerging my head under murky waters. I am not standing on the unforgiving steel of railroad tracks. I am not at my wit's end. I am at my wit's peak.
That's right, it's all coming out now. I'm a fake. A fraud. A phony. But everyone took the bait so willingly! I am not dark because I effortlessly make people think my life is awful, I am dark because I see the true nature of the inhabitants of this world and the world itself. Granted, being human results in the acquiring of my own set of problems. But these problems are not as big as I inflate them to be - not in the slightest. I see the disgusting actions of scumbags, the ignorant actions of the mentally dulled, and the intentions of the fallaciously benevolent. I am no stranger to the evils that plague this world. I have trained my eyes and ears to attain the information I need to develop my thoughts. Thoughts that exist in an intricate mind. Thoughts that conclude the human race is doomed to drown in their own cesspool of evil. If there is a God, I speculate His wrath is not too far away if we continue down this path.
Why do I do it? Why do I fabricate these tales to gain the attention of people? Perhaps it is my twisted way of observing the responses of human beings to certain stimuli. Reassurance, maybe. The constant reinforcement that I am not as bad a person as I make myself out to be. As austere as my opinions of the human race are, I've managed to not let them affect my demeanor towards other humans. I know I am a good person with a strong grasp of morality and self-restraint. I refuse to let those who lack common sense drag me down. I refuse to let those who are a threat to my philosophy stain it with ignorance. I shall not sway in the winds of impedance.
People are free to think whatever they want of me. Will it bother me? To an extent it will due to self consciousness, but at the end of the day I know I have a group of people who accept me for me. Friends. Family. Acquaintances. Throughout the years, I've had all three groups of people right behind me wherever I went in life. You've supported me in my endeavors and you like me for me. You've been there for me when times are tough. You've given me infinite memories that will always bring a smile to my face when I recall them in the future. Whatever happens to us in life, we're all connected by the invisible bond of friendship and love. A bond so strong that it will always find a way to bring us together even when we go our separate ways in life. Life is short, but relationships are eternal. We are an inseparable group of people because we understand and accept each other for who we are. That is more than I could ever ask for and that leaves me thankful to know such a great bunch of people. Great, I just ruined the serious mood with heartfelt confessions.
I take pride in who I am. I am dark. I am strange. I am a cynic. I am a skeptic. I am a pessimist. I am a holder of many fears. I am shy. I am enigmatic. I am a friend. I am a dreamer. I am a hopeful lover. I am an intricate thinker. I am a shoulder to lean on. I am a heart to appeal to. I am a loner, well according to myself. I am goofy. I am crazy. I am perverted. I am everything you could be looking for and nothing you could want. I am a writer. I am a brother. I am a son. I am a cousin. I am a nephew. I am self conscious. I am a creator of imagery. I am a horrible procrastinator. I am everything I say I'm not. I am nothing I say I am. I am me. Like it or hate it, I ain't gonna change it. Not one bit.
I shall not be silenced. I shall not be withheld. I shall not be censored. I shall not be deprived. I shall not dismissed. I shall not be suppressed. I will continue to speak the truths I hold until I am struck with a profound realization that can change my mindset. I am the speaker of inarguable truth. I am the voice of reason. I am the argument of profundity. I am the enigmatic spectacle. I am the seeker of knowledge. I am the arbitrary dealer of judgments. I am the silent shout. I am the whisper in the wind. I am the ear you think is closed. I am the eye you think is turned away. I am the mouth you think is sealed. I am the shadow on the wall of society.
Most importantly, I am the writer of revelation and I will not be silenced.