Wed, Jan. 22
... Give me one reason to stay here
There are days when I feel like my life is just someone's idea of a practical joke. One of these days, someone's going to pull up the curtain, and all I'll see will be a backstage. My life laid out as a script; the scenes posted on the walls with set changes, light design, and sound cues. People in my life waiting in the wongs for their next entrance and, eventually, the final bow. The acknowledgement of what the audience already knew: This is all pretend.
Some days, I'm just waiting for someone to start pointing and laughing, and I'll realize what I suspected all along. None of this is real. I haven't done what I've always thought I'd done; my friends aren't really my friends; all of my decisions are null and void. None of it's real anyways, so what does it matter?
How egotistical. Who am I that people should care enough to deceive me? That takes time, effort, and some sort of vested interest, however twisted it may be, and something to gain from the whole thing. Why would someone spend that much time and energy making my life into such a joke?
And yet... if it's not worth it, why does it seem like there are so many people who spend so much time trying to deceive?
I'm just waiting for the hidden camera to be revealed. When the backstage is finally shown for what it is, the script is found, the stagehands can be seen, and all the actors are shown to be merely facades in fancy costumes and makeup, I can't say that I'll be all that surprised.
Cynical? Perhaps. But it all just feels too unreal to be real life.
One year ago today: I'm free to make my life choices, and just because they may not always fit the "feminist agenda" does not mean that I didn't make them of my own free will. Just because I decide to do something "old fashioned" with my life does not mean that I've been influenced by the "sexist male" segment of society. Inverse sexism. Devaluing my choices as my own choices, just because they could be perceived as sexist.
infinite || abyss
posted at 2:12 p.m.
