On stalkers and believers | Teen Ink

On stalkers and believers

November 14, 2009
By Anonymous

Is this world just a pile of lies
these times
trying in their own special way
attempting to knock me off my pedestal
which has been meticulously constructed
getting past my insecurities
that awful sense of unsureness
that will always end up getting me
one way or another
born with it all
and slowly but surely deprived of it all
and eventually ending up
much like I am now
ostracized
respected
mocked
ridiculed
underestimated
and why?
of course this seems like a rambling of some kid prepared to knock someone dead,alas that is not the case. You see, I'm not one of those. I'm much more successful.
Kids like these view me as a target.
Why?I don't know.
Because I'm disfigured yet successful?
Because I seem like a sad case compared to them, who don't know what is it that's wrong with themselves?
I laugh. Because they care.
Either absorbed permanently in trying to discover what would make them matter to the world, or studying me, in the search of why I'm a superior person in the social pyramid, while they are at the bottom only slightly above the hopeless. Or the last option, imitating me in the most indiscreet way possible, which will ultimately fail, as you have what I lack and therefore lack what I have. The answer comes out rather simply: I do not care about what people think. Their opinions are dead to me.
I'm above whatever anybody thinks. Though I perceived rather late that my way of life was pointless, I needed that to get to my preferred state, invisible. You see, invisibility is wonderful, straight up. I do what I want without consequence, change the feelings of the people that somehow take notice of me through my invisibility, and allow myself a subtle malleability that is unmatched by any. It's keeping an flamboyant low profile. Not giving a f***, mind my language. I can do anything whenever I want. There is no backfire, because I know I've gone too far if I barely scathe the tips of my toes. I don't know. The past lines are bulls*** except for this: Why was I given the gift of at least moderate socializing, while others that appear pretty normal appear ostracized? Logically, I should be shunned. An exile. Which I have been, and enjoyed greatly. Alas, people are wonderful. I'll give it to them, they may look down on me, but they fascinate me, just like I fascinate them. Scratch that. I don't know. I'm just a man stuck in limbo with very little chance of escape. And while my birthright is to be on the great side of life, the curse of life has put me down low. And I'll just live with that. Because I experience it all in a unique scope of life.

The author's comments:
I've always been mystified by the way I get by, and why other's don't, even though they have a better chance at everything.

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