During my periodic monthly episodes of blood, increased hormones, life force and such taking over, I tend to get a bit gloomy, while becoming overrun by immaturity, not to mention, I write more carelessly than I like to admit throughout this instance. So, if you’re looking for something thrilling, inspiring, and poetic or whatnot, you’ve come at the wrong time. There’s no true significance in this entry, except that I’m venting.
Throughout the course of my life, I never thought I belonged anywhere. There were things I’ve always enjoyed like reading, writing, receiving education, sex and being physically active. And although I’m aware that one can be content and isolated away from the conventional world, sometimes I can’t help but wonder how would my mind and heart have been shaped like if I did feel I belonged to something? Would I have felt less alone or more engaged to the world like how dreamers dream profusely of that lotto ticket?
I don’t belong to friends. I have zero (doesn’t include the fabulous ones I have made online or the two ex-boyfriends in my real life that I consider to be like family). Growing up, it was hard to blend in and follow the disgusting girls into their femininity and twin-like mirroring behavior. I took pride in being a tomboy and in being an individual, whereas most appeared to benefit from being a replica of another, so it wasn’t a question why I was constantly the first to be flat-left in the blink of an eye.
I thought things would naturally get better once I got older because of better judgment. Apparently not! From the twenties, and into the early thirties (of where I am now), it seems I meet the wrong types of people. Some of them believe friendship is about sugarcoating, living with illusions, and never involves the truth for personal enlightenment and growth. So, I don’t belong to friends.
I don’t belong to family. I only have one favorite aunt, whom I took after, to a small degree. I’ve been working on my rapport with her for the past year because part of the new me is to be better acquainted with family, although I dislike nearly everyone in it. It’s ironic; I believe the injustice of life has been slowly taking her away from me.
I digress, however. Friends are a lot like family. It involves fitting into a certain mold. And it’s hard for me to be the type of person who can easily overlook their principles, values, beliefs in such a way where I can willingly blend in with the rest of my hypocritical family. I haven’t been blessed with any true friend or relative. I just keep bumping into the wrong people. And why have the wrong people in my life, when it’s better to be true to myself and live within truth instead of a lie?
I don’t belong to fitness. I work out faithfully. I don’t eat clean majority of the time. I don’t take numerous selfies. I don’t buy expensive supplements. I don’t feel the need to show off my body. I don’t have the desire to inspire or motivate others because they usually fall short of my standards. I no longer truly look up to the fitness professionals of the sport as role-models. I don’t even have people in my circle who are diehard fans of training or weightlifting.
In a place of fitness and the gym, it’s my happy place and true religion. But with the masses making a mockery out of fitness (mostly on the internet), where egos turn fit people into assholes and where asking for well-being guidance is replaced by a hand asking for money; I feel as if I’m further away from this sort of crowd and in my own ways, I feel more alone than ever.
I’m sure it’s all about the attitude and perception of mine and how I live in a matter-of-fact system. Nevertheless, it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. But please, don’t get me wrong, I love myself and I am who I am today because I never thought the grass was greener on the copycat’s side. I never thought to fit readily into the methods of the conformist world which occupied family, friends or gyms I belonged to.
I just wonder..