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Passions in Prose

Out of Place

Ree Ree
Member

since 2001-06-28

Posts 56
providence, RI

0 posted 2001-06-28 09:57 PM

I stand here. Standing here, still, I try to understand, to comprehend, I try to conceive what I
am, who I am, why I am. I see my life as one insignificant thing. One in a billion that seem just as
insignificant. I see myself being told one thing yet knowing another. “ Be this way!” is what they
say, when , “ Be that way!” is what I know. As I constantly search for an answer I am pulled apart
by what I am told and what I know. Is what I know what I should become? Is what I know truly
right, or wrong? Do they tell the truth? Are they really looking for my interests? Will they ever
understand?
My mind continues searching, scratching, picking, for some kind of lead or answer. Then I
wonder: Will it ever be solved? Will my human existence plague me forever? Will my thoughts
always contradict what they say and what they tell me is right?
I sit now, tired and alone. I am tired of my ongoing struggle to completely grasp my life and
the things surrounding it. Why must I change to fit into the “ standards ” that society sets for me?
At school, at home, everywhere. “You’re wrong!” they say, “Your wrong!” How do they know
that? These people. Are adults always right? Do they make mistakes? Are the people who tell us
what to do, movie stars, pro-sport players, singers, actors, parents, teachers, are they fit to tell us
the path which we should follow in our own lives? Why do they judge? Is it so hard to let me be?
To let me become who I want, not who they want? I thought I had a decision, I thought it was my
life. I thought there was an inch, a small, very small chance that I would be able to take control,
but now I can see. I can see that I have grown., and I understand the way it works, the system.
The way that they make you think what they want you to and make you become like every other
person. They try to make me into them. A person who thinks like everyone else. A person who is
only beautiful on the outside. A person who can’t be her own. They try, but they can’t make me
be like the rest. They want me to be a duckling. “Follow!” they yell, they scream from all
directions. “ Follow!” “ I can’t!” I yell back. Something pulls me away. Something so interesting
and so powerful.
I lie asleep and I dream. I dream and know not why or how, but I follow that pull, the urge to
just be me and no one else. To be a fee person, a free human being. One with choice. One with
morals. One that loves to be original and not just like the rest. As I follow this feeling I seem to
move away. Away from the uniform and synchronized thought, and I become my own person. A
person with my own thoughts, feelings, and goals. A person with a choice and a say. A person
who can decide what happens to her. A person with her own life.
Then, in all this thought, I remember. I remember what they say, and what they tell me. I
remember how I am separate. I remember that just because I am different and I do care, that I am
set aside, singled out. I am out of place.

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