After a weekend off, I’ve decided to get back into writing with today’s prompt. Writing as a Black man, the title says a lot. I never remembered feeling as if I belonged anywhere growing up. It was something I unconciously noted growing up. I always never seemed to fit what someone else’s idea of who I should be. It frustrated me, I wanted to tell people that I’m Jonathan. That was never enough for society unfortunately.
I always had to be reduced down to an idea.
In time I would come to find that expecting others to see me for who I am, would be too much to ask aparnently. So, I found refuge in my own mind. I always enjoyed reading, as it helped me escape the undignified positions, I was expected to live down towards. Unfortunately, I would get the label of unfriendly or cold, whatever palateble excuse people would say to differentiate me.
In time, I learned it was best not to interact with a majority of people. Our species, no matter the culture, will always find someway to justify social ostracization, only because it means distracting from the mediocrity that is being normal. I was made to feel bad for being different, quite hypocritacal, coming from a dominant group that must organize their society to restrict the poetential of others to elevate even the most undeserving.
I guess knowing it was a lie and finding ways to see through the lies helped. Learning the world caters to the mediocre ideals is liberating. A “good life” is just a comforting lie.
I don’t have time to believe someone else’s lie.