Write Off Salt.
February 17, 2012 § Leave a Comment
Ha! I remember writing this and wishing that I just wasn’t so darn weird. That I just didn’t have so many issues. “No one else is like me,” I thought. And those that are, are extremists. On the contrary, I just had a very different perspective than those around me and I didn’t know it.
In our youth, when we’re raised to believe one way–and that there’s only one way–it can be easy to take what you know and see your differences and make it a negative thing. Being “so weird” made me extremely depressed during college and for a bit thereafter, as you can see from the writing below.
No one sat me down and said, “Jenn, your point of view is simply that and there’s nothing wrong with it.” Oh, well, that was easy. I’m here to tell you: What you think, smell, touch, taste, and feel is totally, utterly, and completely normal regardless of how you were raised and what you were told. As long as it doesn’t involve killing kittens. Unless, of course, you’re Chinese. That being said. You’re not going crazy. And maybe it’s time to write it off.
Write it off. Oh, can it be. Write it off for all to see. It’s impossible. So impossible to be saltless. To not spread what you have inside. To all of those around. To not be broken. To not be tasteless. It’s impossible to write it off.
So why do so many press? Why do so many push? Push you into saltlessness? Injustice, as it were. Perfection gleaming untruth. I can’t write it off. There are things that I cannot deny as my reality. I’m okay with that. There is life and death that I bring to myself that is undeniable, yet penetrates my soul to the deepest of levels.
I feel the torment most days. A lie that I’ve held onto for years. It seeps into my subconscious mind and I hold onto it desperately. I would love magic to occur. In the blink of an eye to feel it diminish. But I can’t. It still waits for me to find a mirror and remind myself of the falsely labeled truth.
I’m afraid of being controlled by a person. An institution. Or this world. I’m afraid of not living in reality or living in someone else’s. I must try (lest it be ‘right or wrong’) to live in my own: were I to pretend it did not exist, I would be telling myself metaphysically I do not exist.
Every so often I try to write off my existence. Write off my experiences. The time when I was pressured to do what I didn’t want to do, sending me down a spiraled path that seemed never ending. There were too many times like that. Too many times that I have denied my feelings. The way I feel like writing it off. Like it didn’t matter. Saltless.
I’m not at a place to make change decisions. Heck, I’m not at a place to take the next step when I’m still at the first. You cannot be a master when you do not know how to fight. I am different. Treat me as such. Treat me as unique. I am your voice. To the nations. Fill me with salt that will change their reality.
Write it off. Don’t write me off. Don’t leave me saltless.
Originally posted: July 13, 2006 in
Cairo, Egypt.
Photo: Fries without salt. Just aren’t the same. Hehe.
