Nobody knows. It would take attention. Intuition. A moment of not focusing on oneself. There’s beauty in this world, but there’s also an area of darkness that remains inconspicuous to most. No one notices it within others very often. It’s all internal. It’s all in our heads. Well that’s the most dangerous thing for one’s sanity. For their mental health. For their happiness. To continue going on through life, caring about others, wanting to connect to them, needing to connect to them, but not feeling the same care reciprocated. It’s like you’re that cashier that continuously asks distracted customers how they are, and wishing their ungrateful ass a good day when you finish giving them what they bought. You’re left feeling alone, while standing surrounded in a crowded room. You’re never alone in the literal sense, but you’re always alone in reality. Depth doesn’t seem to exist anymore. Intimacy is a rarity. No one knows how to connect anymore… Actually, that’s not true. No one cares. There is a lack of interest. “Focus on someone but myself? Make someone feel valued? Have genuine interest in someone? Pshh that’s too much work, I’ll just let people treat me like some amazing discovery while I remain indifferent towards them.”
The other day, I looked in my mirror, and in the reflection, I saw a stranger. She looked at me with wide eyes, begging to be noticed, but I avoided eye contact. She made weird faces, bugging out her eyes, sticking out her tongue, forcing a smile, finally shedding tears in defeat. None of it worked. I looked at her, but not directly at her. I was scared, and she was sad. I had forgotten her in the mirror. Every time I step in front of that mirror, I look right past her. I don’t look, because I don’t recognize her anymore. I’m afraid that if I look too long, it will all become to real. I’ll finally take notice that I’ve heartlessly abandoned her for all these days. The fear that I’ll remember her. Who she was, her vibrancy, her enthusiasm for life, how I felt whole when I saw her in the mirror and could tell you her name. Every second she’s trapped in that mirror, I hear her cry. It’s quiet in efforts to not disturb anyone, yet I hear it all the time and it keeps me awake at night. She knows I hear her. I feel her presence beside me wherever I go. She and I used to be one, but now we’re two entirely different entities. She’s drowning in her tears, and I’m numb. She screams at me, in order to bring me back to reality. She makes a mess in every area of my life in order for me to see the destruction to bring me back, to make me aware. Yet I’ve lost all touch with reality. She knows that. That’s why she continues this seemingly pointless effort.
She’s the only one who knows, and she’s the only one who can bring me back.
I finally found the word to describe how you move. It’s menacing. As you saunter toward a determined destination, your weight shifts back and forth between legs, your shoulders swaying. It looks like you’re drunk, but also appears to be your natural stage. Maybe life’s gotten you drunk. Not the good kind of drunk, but rather, the kind that leaves you feeling sick in the morning. You’ve had too much. This is the state of drunkenness where you begin to be painfully reminded by your mind as to the things going on around you. There’s a point where all of those memories are drowned out, this is the point where it’s all laid in front of you. You think about those who don’t speak to you anymore because you fucked up badly. You think about those who left you cause they didn’t have any use for you any longer. You think to those you want who will never want you. You think about your ever present loneliness. You’ve found yourself walking up and down these streets, back and forth, seeing the same scenery, waiting for someone to request your presence. Waiting for someone to want your presence. Though that never comes. You continue to pace back and forth on that same stretch of land in the cold, with your headphones in, trying to drown out reality. Maybe loneliness will always be your reality, you think to yourself. You try to think on the bright side, but your optimism is unfounded. That would require you not screwing up. Oh but how much you love to screw up. Make others feel like shit and then find yourself confused when they leave you alone. It will take a large shift in perspective and approach to win them back. It will take true repentance, not just the kind you utter when you’re trying to ‘apologize’. So many times these days, all of us apologize when we’re not truly sorry. The fault with that is that we’ve messed up on truly understanding where we went wrong if we can’t seem to find the reason as to why we should feel guilty. So then we continue to act in that same unsatisfactory manner, continuously wearing away at our ties between one another. You are met with frustration time after time, yet you still don’t get it. It’s not apologizing for it this time, or the next, or the time after that, it’s finally understanding what you’ve done.
Warning: this post may come off as insensitive. It is merely meant to air frustrations. I am open to hearing your opinions on every part of my position if you are offended”
It has recently come to my attention that as a result of the controversy of pronouns, my professor* always refers to each individual as “they.” Now it is all fine and logical to me to refer to a group as they, but eh hem, it is damn obvious that that girl over there is a she, and that guy in the back.. yeah.. umm I’m pretty sure he is a he. I get it, we have people who don’t identify as a he or a she. Though, I believe if one prefers to be referred to as a he, a she, a star, an other, a they, they’ll let you know if you are addressing them in an offensive manner in relation to their preferences.
Let me give you an example of how my professor* uses the word they though… My professor* will ask a question to the class, get a response that may be too quiet for the class to hear, and as the professor* looks at this girl with make up on and long hair, the professor* says “if you didn’t all hear, they said ‘blah blah blah'” In a way, it removes the credit given to the person who has commented. It also distances this professor from us as a class, but also as individuals. I realize that we must respect other’s pronoun sensitivities, but the road goes both ways. What about those who identify to the standard pronouns? Do they have room to be offended that you aren’t addressing them how they would like to be addressed? Oh but you’re making it so that everyone is included in the pronoun you have generalized and chosen to use to address every single one of us in the room. Well to inform you, I identify as she, not they. I am not a group of people, I am one individual who would appreciate that at the very least, you address me by the gender I identify with, to show me you are giving me a small bit of acknowledgement as an individual.
Perhaps at this point in my rant, you all are saying to yourselves “you are all offended as a person who conforms to a gender many ignorantly will assume you are. You are primarily accepted by the pronoun you associate with. So don’t you see how those who prefer to be addressed by a different pronoun feel when addressed incorrectly?”
I get it, it is frustrating. It is also frustrating that we have gone from including one demographic’s opinions into consideration. Then completely shifting over to a new demographic’s opinions in order to be less ignorant towards the issue. When we have just forgotten the previous demographic all together.
I nearly feel compelled to request that this professor call me she. I feel as though those who identify with non-conforming pronouns should feel the same freedom. So then I must ask, if we are so concerned about being socially correct that we generalize an entire group and address every individual and they, why can’t we simply ask EVERY SINGLE PERSON what they damn well desire to be addressed as. Well that would take too much time… So it is really in an effort to save time? What about the effort to respect the wishes of those sensitive to how you address them? Or are you not concerned with that? Is it simply because remembering what everyone prefers to be addressed by, or remembering the names is too time consuming? Or in a way, do you also feel like it is not important. You are the main star of the show, we listen to you for a great portion of the class, so why is it important to know who we are.
Through all of this sarcasm and frustration, I am merely trying to allow those who address EVERYONE by ‘they’, to see that ‘they’ are still offending and frustrating those who don’t identify as a ‘they.’ If you really want to be socially correct, remember a name or two…
Quote in reference to being addressed as ‘they’: “yeah, it wasn’t me who said it, it was a group of us: me, myself, and I”
*pronoun omitted and replaced by professor in order to respect the professor’s possible unstated pronoun preference
Sometimes I wish I could know if you look at me the same way I look at you: with permanent rose colored glass, only able to see the beauty and perfection that lies inside you. Every ounce of your being equating to just enough to satisfy all of my senses. To look at you, and think, will I ever stop falling in love with every single detail? The tiny gap between your teeth. The way your lips and teeth meet. The contrast between the flatness of your teeth, and the puffiness of your lips making your lips appear all that more appealing. The way your eyes look when just your gaze exudes how much you desire my body, but also the way they look when your emotions soften, and you pull me to you.
How the hair on every inch of your body reminds me that you’re rugged and masculine, just the way I like it. How it feels when you display your desire in one single embrace.
But sometimes it is not so easy to convey just how precious a moment feels. Sometimes words don’t do moments justice.
A while ago it was brought to my attention that we all are partially lacking in our skills of noticing the tiny details of other people. We focus so much on ourselves, and think about how we are coming across to the world, that we forget the best thing about life. We are on this planet, surrounded by vastly different people in every way. Every single person is an individual puzzle that is impossible to solve, yet that’s the beauty in it all. Sometimes we get lucky, and we find a puzzle we’re enamored with, and addicted to solving. Through this, we end up discovering an amazing attribute we may have never known existed, that lies within in us: selflessness. One thing that bothers me to no end is when we allow ourselves to get so caught up in our own world, that we fail to see the beauty in others. It is possibly one of the most disgusting attributes about humans— our tendency to always focus on ourselves. I just realized as I’m writing this, that that is probably why I dislike writing directly about my everyday life, highlighting every moment that revolves around me. Instead, I just wish to share my thoughts—not to hear myself talk, but in order to put these thoughts on a page so that someone can comment what they think about it.
Back to my point though. What is noticing necessarily? Like if we were to tell someone “I’ve noticed things about you,” what kind of examples would come to mind? Personally, I can only picture someone mentioning tiny quirks in someone’s appearance, or actions, not their mind. Though noticing those physical things is still quite flattering to the person being observed, more mind/ personality centered things would be refreshing. It would urge the subject to question how it is that this person picked up on that— especially when they may not have been aware of it before it was mentioned.
The issue with it all though, is that everyone wants to be the subject of admiration, not the admirer. It takes too much work being the admirer, so why not let the compliments and observations revolve around you. The thing is that if this is your mentality, you most likely don’t have much about you to be discovered. I’ve found that the most fascinating and interesting people are the ones in tune with others, and focus on things outside of themselves. It appears that the more you focus on everyone but yourself, the greater you become as a result. Not necessarily doing things for others, but just taking the time to get to know them, to observe them, to notice them.
Sitting, surrounded by people, and none know a single thing that’s going on. The opposite sex accidentally reveals their struggle blatantly, but yours remains hidden. It’s random, unexpected, but also pleasant. You’re not supposed to feel these sensations while in public. It’s a private matter. You tell yourself to stop. To think about neutral topics. Despite it all, your body rages on. Coerced by nothing, stimulated by the unexpected. It’s just happening. As hard as you try to stop it, to repress it, it continues on.
The second you can, you run to a private space. You question why you’d allow yourself to feel such innapropriate sensations in public. ‘It didn’t harm anyone.’ ‘Yeah, but it’s also deviant behavior.’
There’s a knock at the door. You answer, and in he walks. That innocent little striped dress is now slipped off of your body by his big hands, with your assistance. Next thing you know, there you lay, directly undrrneath him, both of you with minimal fabric to cover your bodies and shield your eyes from lustful glances. His gaze is begging to look at your body in its one true state. Unclothed, unaltered, the imperfections revealed. You look into his eyes and desire the same of him. To have him reveal his body, for you to watch as he unveils what your body is begging to see. Both of you take turns indulging in how every part of one another’s bodies feel under the touch of your hands, how wonderful it is to run your mouth along the most delicate, sensitive areas, and place a kiss, or deliver a tantalizingly gentle bite. Your lips meet, and your tongues begin to explore and intermingle, like two long lost lovers discovering one another once again. He flips you two over, and now you’re on top. You’re nearly naked form on display. The first article of clothing… Then the next… Suddenly you’ve found yourself completely stripped of everything. His eyes take in every inch of your body, arousing all of his senses. It’s his turn next, and he happily obliges. Soon, the two of you have now found yourselves ultimately revealed. There’s nothing left to cover, everything’s exposed. You indulge in your desires. Your bodies mold as one, as he moves in you. You engage in the most sensual, lustful, forbidden, sinful, dirty act known to man, and you love every second of it.