Letting it Out

What do you want out of this life? You hear people ask that all the time, especially when you want to go to college. What do you want to be? Your life is unique, just waiting to be molded into something amazing… or typical.

No one wants to be average. Everyone wants to be the rock star, the famous player, the one person everyone looks up to. Deep down, we all want to find something we can call our own, something that makes this world worth living through. Why is it that we try so hard to find something that is right in front or our eyes?

I wasn’t enough for my family, or so they made me believe. My dream, it wasn’t enough for them until they saw it could really become a reality, could really make some money. Dreams aren’t about money, they’re about fulfillment. No one wants to be the assistant, the plumber, the janitor or even the manager. Sometimes we try to be something we aren’t because we aren’t given a choice. I wish we could be given that choice.

What is life to most people? Why is it that most people just think it’s some joy ride? Why don’t they do what they really want to? Maybe they think they are doing what they really want. Maybe they’re too numb to know. Or maybe they numbed themselves because they were shot down so many times by life. Not by life… by the people in it.

Life is hard, life is tough and harsh but it doesn’t shoot you down constantly like that. People do. People tell you that what you think is wrong, that you can’t believe the things you want to. They destroy your expression ans try to recreate their own in your eyes. They try to smother everything, almost like they don’t want thought. We’re oppressed people, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to express. i want to express, I want to stop holding it all in. I want to be me, for it to be okay to believe something else. I want to be alive.

Sometimes I sit here, looking at the screen, wondering what to type. There are so many thoughts, ideas and stories just jumping out all at once. I’ve never given them the chance to breathe. Well, not me. People never wanted me to express my own beliefs. I couldn’t be who i wanted to be around others. If I wasn’t one way i was some kind of freak, if I didn’t like this genre of music I was weird. You can’t be different. If I wasn’t white I was made fun of, if I wasn’t Mexican I was ridiculed. If you aren’t black you can’t be a part of the society, especially if you’re something else. Being one or the other wasn’t good enough for either side. Why is it that color defines who we are? What if I was pink? What would people think then? How would they categorize me? Or would they just try to kill me?

Why can’t we just believe that we want? Why can’t people just accept these things? Why can’t we be unique? What’s so wrong with being me? I want to scream that at the top of my lungs. What’s so wrong with expression of self? What’s so wrong with wanting to write, to play video games, to like different things other than the “social norm”. Why can’t we just be who we were meant to be? Why is it that we all have to try to fit into someone else’s image?

I’ve tried to answer these questions before and came up with the same things over and over again. Acceptance. Well, you know, the ultimate form of acceptance is someone loving who you really are, not just some fake image you show to the world in an attempt to gain fake love, fake acceptance. But that’s all some people are willing to give.