Dinohuman
04-03-18, 10:44
"Society doesn't let us not fit in."
Those were the words of a doctor who found his wris****ch far more interesting than my inability to integrate with humanity. As these words escaped his eerily shiny lips my eyes brought me to a poster behind his bowling ball shaped head. It was of the Bristol stool chart, and I instantly knew, all this was a load of shit. These steps to wellbeing, these mind numbing therapy sessions, these opening up to friends and family, all of it was...type eight on the stool chart. There was nothing anybody could do that a novelty bobble head could do better. Our provisional diagnoses, our official diagnoses, our self proclaimed diagnosis are but labels plastered on our foreheads in attempt to either understand or make one feel unique and special. Truth is, society does not let us fit in because society consists of an obsequious force which conducts its routine in the realms of what they deem normal. What you wear, how you talk, how you behave, how you work. All these things are what apparently builds a normal human being, anything defiant of such is considered a mental health issue. If you can't fit in, you're sick, which makes us feel sick, thus begins a cycle. But what if it's society that's sick? What kind of demented being tries forcing a triangle into a square shaped hole? Why, for example, do I have to integrate with humanity? Am I not simply allowed to decline my position, to cease from orbiting this realm and seek a new planet for myself? According to society, I must power through the hoards of podgy fat faces and battle these build ups of panic attacks and pure undiluted rage. I must pretend to be one of them. To talk and behave like them. To work amongst them. I guess in many ways they turn us into psychopaths...lying, faking, blending in. Erving Goffman said the world is a stage, and we the actors. My question is, what if I don't want to act anymore, and where does the audience sit?
Those were the words of a doctor who found his wris****ch far more interesting than my inability to integrate with humanity. As these words escaped his eerily shiny lips my eyes brought me to a poster behind his bowling ball shaped head. It was of the Bristol stool chart, and I instantly knew, all this was a load of shit. These steps to wellbeing, these mind numbing therapy sessions, these opening up to friends and family, all of it was...type eight on the stool chart. There was nothing anybody could do that a novelty bobble head could do better. Our provisional diagnoses, our official diagnoses, our self proclaimed diagnosis are but labels plastered on our foreheads in attempt to either understand or make one feel unique and special. Truth is, society does not let us fit in because society consists of an obsequious force which conducts its routine in the realms of what they deem normal. What you wear, how you talk, how you behave, how you work. All these things are what apparently builds a normal human being, anything defiant of such is considered a mental health issue. If you can't fit in, you're sick, which makes us feel sick, thus begins a cycle. But what if it's society that's sick? What kind of demented being tries forcing a triangle into a square shaped hole? Why, for example, do I have to integrate with humanity? Am I not simply allowed to decline my position, to cease from orbiting this realm and seek a new planet for myself? According to society, I must power through the hoards of podgy fat faces and battle these build ups of panic attacks and pure undiluted rage. I must pretend to be one of them. To talk and behave like them. To work amongst them. I guess in many ways they turn us into psychopaths...lying, faking, blending in. Erving Goffman said the world is a stage, and we the actors. My question is, what if I don't want to act anymore, and where does the audience sit?