Friday, November 22, 2013

Normal. Pfft!



Every time I think of “normal” all I see is a husband with a steady, suit and tie job, two kids (a boy and a girl), and a nice dog that never bites the mailman, all living in a little white house, surrounded by a little white picket fence in suburban, neighbor-wants-to-give-you-diabetes hell.

Again, I say: Pfft!

Society tells us not only to accept normal, but to be normal.

This year, two of my sisters got married. I won’t go into the details. I still love them, but I feel like they’re in a world completely different from mine. I see through the glass above me towards their lives, but can’t find anything to make them fall back down into mine.

ALSO: What in the world is up with all those stares?

I’ve read a lot of books in my time that mention the “sacred language of lovers” and all that bullshit. But, come on! What person in her right mind would think she would be witnessing the actuality of that phrase? Sometimes, I’m a hopeless romantic who swoons when she witnesses the endless love between two people. Other times, I’m a raging, cynical curmudgeon who doesn’t want to see the sacred language displayed in my own living room. Regardless of what I think, lovers are the normal ones, even if the couple I’m referring to can be abnormal at times.

Come to think of it, society isn’t the only one that says couples are normal.

Nature does.

The survival of our species relies on fertile couples to produce screaming, slobbering babies. I feel like I’m window shopping for a puppy whenever I see a baby. Sometimes, I go, “Aww! I want one.” When they start crying and wailing in a decibel you wouldn’t expect someone so small can hold, I feel like I should be wielding a cross or something and shouting, “Back, demon! Back to the pit!”

Maybe my idea of normal (working, learning, writing, reading, etc.) isn’t what society wants, but that’s what I’m giving. After all, I’m sure there were introverted Neanderthals that spent more time drawing on cave walls than searching for a mate. I just happen to like drawing on cave walls more than searching for Prince Charming. Plus, with the way they’re always remaking things in Hollywood, I doubt I’d know him when I saw him, provided I even took a second to divert from whatever I’m doing.
"Aren't you afraid to be alone?" I hate this question. Honestly. If I wanted company, I can always call up someone and chat away for an hour and a half. I did that recently. How can someone be alone in an over-populated world? That brings to mind another thing: I’m not too worried about the survival of this species...well, population-wise, anyway. There are over 7 billion people on this teeny tiny planet. So, ha! You can’t use that reasoning on me! Neener! Neener!



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