The Insanity of Stability

The thoughts of a young adult at a social gathering

     She realizes she is the only person in the room who feels the way she does. There will never be another person on Earth who believes in the exact same things as she. No one who can empathize with her elaborate thoughts and seemingly, no one who is willing to listen. The extravagant room is filled with people, laughing, joking, debating; she wonders how they really feel under the mask they put on for other people. Is this their true being? Are they always this happy and personable? Why? Why be personable? Why be inviting for other peoples’ enjoyment? Because that’s the modus operandi? Because that’s how the world functions without chaos? We’re already in a world filled with chaos, so what does it matter if there’s a little more? One more person to add to the insanity of the world. There are billions of people on this planet and everything’s already falling apart, so why not? Why can’t she too, fall apart?

     Not all of us are meant to be broken. Some of us are born without disabilities of the mind. She wasn’t, not at all. She, as most people, actually enjoyed life and liked going out and socializing. However, time changed her. She learned to prefer the safety and solidity of the inside world. The seclusion of sitting in a room only entertained by fictional Television series’ and movies seemed to comfort her in a way. When she was younger, she was the one laughing and being outgoing. She loved to make friends, but she didn’t exactly understand how, so she acted as nature intended her to be. Although, at a certain point people found her excessive optimism and love to entertain to be… much too odd a characteristic. She was excluded; she didn’t understand why. She had so many friends one day and the next, she was practically nothing. She got very solemn after realizing she was the one who drove them away. She couldn’t blame anyone but herself for why they never liked her. She still doesn’t completely understand why, even to this day, but it happened, and nothing can change that.

     While she stood alone on the far side of the room, she thought about how maybe her true self would be able to come out. Maybe her honest thoughts could come out not as sarcasm or remorse, but as playfulness and contentment. But, in futile effort, she could not convince herself that things would go as well as she imagined in her head. She thought not of dreams, but of reality, her warped reality, distorted by the pain and desolation of her past. She couldn’t shed her old, repulsive skin that had been molded onto her those many years ago. She thought of freedom as insanity, and lingered in her small little corner of the world, waiting for someone to see her as herself.

Author's Note

I know this is fairly short, and this was written and edited in about a total of 30 minutes. Sooo yeah.