Parting the Sea of Normalcy. Beautiful Princess Disorder. The reality of my insignificance.

January 11th, 2024

Many times, I find myself absorbing the words of others. I find myself pantomiming realities I've never lived, wearing the clothes that don't fit right because they belong to someone else. Every moment of my life is clouded by a fog of dissociative memories of traveling through alternate dimensions where I wasn't actually there. I always thought I should be the most important person in my life, but often times I tilt the spotlight to a me that doesnt fully exist. I operate through half truths. A Russian doll you screw the top off and find a smaller one inside, when you get to the last layer all you find is a whimpering little hound. Arooo...Oh its pathetic isnt it.

I'm not above mindlessly scrolling until my brain becomes incomprehensible mush that you find slips through your hands like wet putty. Splat onto the floor. All that exists between the padding of my skull are microfibers and binary code. Algorithms and rage bait.

I'm not above endlessly scrolling through boards. Where I see the word "normie" or a word with the "-cel" suffix more than anything substantial throughout my day. Ousting the normies and locals, those damn interlopers. We must protect our sacred land! Do not tell them the secrets, a sin as grave as Samson telling Delilah his secret. You tell them where we propagate, where our streth lies and they cut our hair from the root! Philistines and heretics! Kill them Kill them! Banish the normies to eternal hellfire! With their top 50 billboard hits and whatever other diminutive bullshit we use to differentiate ourselves. Individuality is dead, and we succumb to labeling. We are nothing but the arbitrary words that define us.

Okay, I'm being dramatic! I like drama I do. Have I mentioned my zodiac sign? I'm kidding, really.

I find myself not a leader when it comes to adapting in a new situation; perhaps it's that pesky woman socialization, where I must pad my words with fluff and back away from any aggression. I don't want to be the angry. black. woman. SO bossy, so rude. I find that anytime I stand up for myself or assert myself in a situation I am quickly lambasted. Perhaps because I am unable to properly control my tone, but I hate being told what to do. I hate authority. I hate being controlled. I've been told to soften myself, that I'm too garish and unapproachable. I hate it. I'm a shy person, admittedly, but I've forced myself into a box of checking every aspect of myself. There seems to be this etiquette rule on neocities, or a certain code everyone follows. So I adhered. Mostly because I still have no idea what my grand website vision is. I do what I feel like and fill in the blank spaces with general trends. I mean everyone has a guestbook so why not. Ugh. Im not sure why I force myself to do these things, but if I keep asking myself why I play into shaming my nature and never changing it. I just dont know what Im doing. I dont have a plan outside of what Im accustomed to. My private sector where I write and make art and craft and communicate with my digital friends. A website is strange, out of my orbit.

I was reading about an internet personality I dont like, because when I am uncertain and ashamed of myself I project onto others. It feels good because they are bad people. I can hate someone other than myself. But then I just wasted the day reading people ramble and yell at each other instead of staying on topic, our mutual hatred for a bad person. Ive tried to stop doing this. Ive gotten pretty good at it, but I admit to my hiccups. Sometimes I see myself as a loser just like these people. Its just no one knows who I am. Also im not evil?

Ive been diagnosed with multiple things throughout my life time as a young adult. Recently Ive been slapped down as bipolar. I like to believe that isnt true. Lets just say I have vitamin D deficiency. I need sun. My habits of rotting away arent helping me. I dont know particualy whats wrong with me. Ive heard lots of things and I dont like to fixate on them too much because they make me sad. That my brain will be screwy and meds will kill my liver to keep me normal enough but still aching for the sweet release. I am nothing and no one not even to myself. Yet I am everything and everyone. I am just another star in the sky, a beautiful shell on the sand next to other beautiful shells. I get overwhelmed by the light of everyone else that I am unable to see myself.

I feel good when I do this. Ramble with no real end? I have to contain myself for other things, but this is just stream of consciousness nonsense.

I think sometimes. I see people who have decided they are not normies. Trucels above the fakecels. but they are just as boring as everyone else. Its weird. They ramble on and on about their niche interest, equating that to their superiority. Or how they just arent like everyone else. And they manage to be just as boring? I find it boring. But I think I find cruelty boring. I find people who cant change boring. I find people so concerned with themselves boring. They shouldnt care what I think though. I dont care what they think either. The human existence is so varied, we change so frequently. The portrait of our lives should be filled with colours you've never seen before and some familiar to you.

Those who cannot love are boring to me. That can never love or feel love. That can not feel passion. That cannot feel empathy. That do not consider their pulse bulges through their necks when their heart beats and trembles in their wrists. I'm not some happy-go-lucky overly optimistic person. Im a drag at times. Miserable really. But if I lose hope in this world. If I lose hope in love. I lose hope for those I fight for. For what causes me to smile. The world is not me; I am insignificant. I want to embrace the whole and the one.

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