~AnonymousPseudonymSt

Well, I am not an artist, just a writer.
meh

if you wish to learn about me, i might not cooperate. if you do not really understand why, check my user name. you might have to coax me and i must be really trusting.
which i am but i shall try to control myself.
wateva

if you have read this, welcome to my life, welcome to a crazy world

check me out here: [link]

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Questions:

"Why be normal?" They all ask me, "why be yourself when everyone else is being themselves? How original can you get?"

"Then what do you do?" I ask back.

"Me?" They stare, as if the answer was obvious as I nod, "I just follow what the leader says!"

"And that is original?" I ask.

"Of course it is!" They cry back at me, "if abnormal is normal, then just being the old normal is abnormal, therefore it is orginal!"

"..."

"You still don't get it, do you?" They ask, stunned, "and you are supposed to be an avarage person, I bet you are just stupid..."

"And I should care for you words because...?" I ask.

"'Cause the leader said them, that is why!"

"And I should care of what the leader says because...?" I persist and they sigh, looking at me with regret.

"You are just stupid," they say, "you cannot even understand the simplicity of this."

In the end they leave, leaving me alone and wondering...all alone with just my thoughts for company. They just cannot accept the fact that I am not in their new trend.

'When did the concept of originality became the norm?' I sigh and keep musing with my thoughts. 'The concept of normal was just following what the others say, and now that everyone does that and a few daring souls decide to go out and do what they feel is right, the trend changes.' I shuffle my feet as everyone stares at me like they always did, their eyes coveying their meaning loud and clear.

"You are so weird..." And those words keep hurting. Some people take pride in this, showing it off as a badge that means they are orginal. I sigh again, hurt by their looks.

"Why are you hurt by their looks?" The others ask me.

"Why shouldn't I?" I ask back.

"'Cuz it means you are cool with us!" They tell me, smiling at me but I am confused.

"That means that I am not supposed to be cool with them?" I ask.

"Hell yeah!" They nearly shout, giving the others a murderous look.

"What is wrong with being cool with them?" I ask.

"It means that you are normal," they answer.

"And normal is bad?" I ask.

"Yes!" They cry at me, "it means that you have no individuality, it means that you cannot be smarter than them, it means that you are just average!"

"And I should care about this because...?" I ask.

"'Cuz you want to have your own individuality!" They scream.

"So to be individual I must be with you guys because...?" I persist and they give up too, sighing and looking about in defeat.

"And we thought you were smarter than them!" They cry in exasperation and give me a look of pity, "we thought we would have some one else to hang with us, but I guess we were wrong..."

In the end they leave too, leaving me alone and wondering once again...all alone with just my thoughts for company, not a soul seems to understand me. They just cannot accept the fact that I am not in their new trend.

'Why is it all so difficult?' I wonder as a single tear runs down my cheek; my tear is now my only company. 'I just want people to accept me, I don't want to be labeled in a group... I just want to be me, not because its against the norm, or because it became the norm, I want to be me because I want to be free.' My tears continue to fall as I fall down into my own abyssym. Forced by the rules of society to have a group; I wish to just be part of all the groups.

"You are weird..." Thier eyes tell me, and now that both groups have found neutral ground, they team up against me. And I am even more hurt than before...

'And I thought that this would change, but while I keep defiying the norm by society, I will always remain alone.' Again, another tear, but the other one left me too, so now this one is my only companion. 'Seems that while I am just myself, I will never find someone with whome to stay. I cannot find myself alone, I need other people by my side. But even in my family I am cast off, all alone. Tagged as the black sheep, that is the only mold I posses. If I fill it up, I shall no longer know myself.' I sigh, and dry my tears. 'Now I understand something,' I gaze at the horizon, 'life is not easy, unless I make it easier for me. No matter, I will be myself through it all. Alone, all alone, I still have myself, I still have my tears, my pains, my happiness, and all of me. I just hope that it can be enough...'