Do you ever go into alien mode? The mode where you essentially just observe everyone else as "humans" a foreign species and you, you play the alien. Maybe you don't, but I do, and I do it often. It helps me deal with the absurdity that is human society. Let's be honest, big butts, drinking until you drop and having a nice looking body- courtesy of steroids and low priority to one's genitals- mean nothing and have no real value. I hate it, I want to stand away, push those ideas of a cliff, feed its ego till it pops, just to get rid of it.
Yet I'm a hypocrite, as every human being is. As much as I stand up against it in my mind and pretend being an alien- not insane by the way-, I follow their rules. I bow and bark, as they expect from me... because I don't want to be thrown out and shunned, in the same manner as trash or, I guess as those considered "uncool". I never wish to return to that void.
Will anything happen right now during lunch that will make me feel like a greater pile of shit? My desires say no, "nothing will happen darling", although my logical part is almost dead from laughing of what my desires think. Yeah... shit will happen soon enou-
"Hey, Sandra! Come here, and you can bring your shame with you as well." The queen of bitches calls... "C-coming!" I force a smile, a skill I have carefully developed over the years, I can even smile when I'm so embarrassed that a comet smashing into me would be welcome. Oh god, it feels empty, but at least there's no void. But is the void perhaps preferable to, to this? Whatever the frack this is? Sigh, I can overthink and analyse this later, focus on surviving this jungle first...
And of course there's someone being held there against their will by the "cool kids". Alexandra, queen of bitches, long may she rain, is the one who called me over. She's sitting at a circular table, good spot to see everyone and give a horrifying glare at someone that doesn't agree with her or treat her as if her body is a wonder factory, no imperfections here, except the pimples under a sea of makeup, her suffocating amount of perfume and I will continue on later, see how long the list becomes. The poor girl held hostage in this mini Guantanamo bay, her name's Jessica, haven't interacted beyond group work, but from what I know about her; nice, pragmatic, nerdy (of course their victim is) and athletic (weird combo, I know). Trapped in the rules, just as me.
My walk ends, standing before Alexandra herself, smiling like a clown, obedient like a slave. "Right, good work listening. Now see, I have a simple job for you" Her face contorts into a small smile, malicious, whatever she wants, Jessica will be an example for others. "Slap her," she says, pointing at Jessica.
My smile almost turned upside down, I had to catch my shock and calm it. Okay, calm down, you have been used mostly as a courier and even once had to drench yourself in apple juice, even... if this is more drastic... I will do it... will I?
Alexandra stares into me as if trying to ascertain control over my mind, using telepathy to force me. I glance over to Jessica, she tries to struggle out of the grasp of the two girls next to her, seems they're stronger than her, Jessica is barely able to move. Only her legs show any visible struggle.
In this very moment, I believe I am experiencing an existential crisis. Is this what I want to do? What will this do to me? Will it change me, or simply reinforce my weak nature.
2.5 years. That's how long this little dance has gone on for. A dance of one, my instructor in front of me, already handed out my routine. She's manipulated me ever since the first humiliation. I refused to hand out my only pen that day to one of Alexandra's friend. Her response, completely reasonable and so just lady justice handed over her weights. Spread rumors (cliche, but still effective apparently) about me having lice, crabs and other pleasant things. Not everyone believed it, fully, but it made everyone wary of me. Going to her, I asked if she could alleviate or even wholly remove the rumors. She could, if I crawled in front of her and begged.
In that moment, I would like to have presented some resistance, but that did not happen. Straight up agreed and ripped my spine out and crawled up to her like a slug. Rather shameless, if I say so, but there is a force so powerful that every culture bows down to it; common sense. In this small world, it made sense to do that, if I wanted to have some social life at all. Now that I think on it, common sense really doesn't make any "sense". Why the fuck did I do that? Was I weak, or something else perhaps? What did I feel after doing it, after doing everything else?
... Comfortable. I felt comfort, because I didn't have to be excluded again, because all I had to do was obey a little and my place in "society" was secure. I was afraid of punishment, of struggle. Struggle is unpleasant. I have overcome struggle in academics, but not in life. Sigh, that's why I gave up, I never had defense against social structures of humans. Denial and distance from truth made it easier.
Don't people say that life is made up of moments? That each moment can have an impact on us? Have I had moments? Have I lived, or just cruised through life without actually exploring?
I can't change myself completely, but wait, do I have to change? The only thing I have to do is express myself. My own thoughts have been a cornucopia of free and expressive personality, but they were shut out. Because of their rules. No, because I accepted their rules as true and a part of reality. Oh shit, okay, okay, okay, let's do this.
"No." That's all?! Okay, I do feel nauseous, would throwing up on her send the message? No, no, it would just shut me out more. Wait, no that doesn't matter anymore, since that exclusion only works in their world. Alright, first opportunity to vomit on Alexandra, go for it.
Alexandra's face is a fascinating mix of anger, shock and confusion. For such an otherwise basic person she can pull of a complex expression. Good for her. "Seems you forgot the rules." There's the word again. Fuck, I really was trapped in their reality. Well no more, time for an awesome rebel to appear and flip the middle finger to social structures. She stands up and almost right away swings her arm with an open palm. A classic to be sure, but an obvious maneuver. Okay, quick! Block it! DO it, do it, do it damn you! My arm moves quicker than I thought possible, without any finesse and control, so it just slams into her arm. While not the ideal approach, it works. Alright now, eh, oh, just scream into her face and say something witty, something you really think of her.
"No I didn't forget about your "rules" you stuffed rotten specimen of a human. No sorry I take that back. You look like a gorilla that escaped from a makeup facility. And if you want to know what you're like inside; just scratch your ass and smell your finger, THAT, is the smell of your soul!" Wow, she actually backed away. What do I do now? I want to run away, but I can't move, it takes all of my strength to stand confidently. Luckily I won't have to come up with a plan to that, as Jessica breaks away and grabs my arm. "C´mon!"
Life up until now was stagnant, odd, limiting. I didn't know who I was, I didn't want to know, but now, now I see who I am and I take responsibility for who I was before. The unknown nature of life has opened itself before me and I am ready for my first step into that journey and to come out into the world.