For Once...Advice Needed

Writing in quasi-depressed states are not my cup of tea. One, they often result in dreadfully annoying your adult readers, to the point that you sound like your 14 year old self, on those pages of your hello kitty journal. I never actually had one of these, but I had something equally cutesy and novelty-ish. Two, these feelings of subjective melancholy and wrenching despair when confronted with the cruel world, often pass, and you look back and say " What a whiny twit! All while smiling at every small toy sized animal that crosses your path (this also applies to other petite things- such as children".

Though I provided my reasons for dismissing what I am about to write , I will do it anyway, as any good rebellious young lady would do so.

Here it goes, as it is scrambled in my head, run on sentences (nothing new to me) and all:

Mind you, I am giving it to you all as unfiltered as it stirs in my channels of anxiety...

FUCK! This world is full of cruelties which can be rendered as the one the most unfair injustices to those who do not deserve it. But who is to say that I do not deserve it? ARGH! The one thing that angers me most is the fact that I cannot fit the conventions of a world that rewards and takes pride in such things. Inherent in my nature is the art of unabashed pioneering. I find it too easy to follow directions. Common animals can follow directions! I do not intend to insult them, but as a creature endowed with rationality and creativity- I should be given the right to use it without bounds. Oh yes, they say "We admire you for your adversity; however, this isn't how what we want!" That statement usually uttered by "THE MAN", is a metaphor for the patronizing that your equals wish to reply when the square does not fit in the circle. I believe, in fact, I strongly believe that I am NOT in the right state of mind for this world. My character wins the etiquette award, but also takes first in the rebel without a cause competition. I am angered that my writing is NOT academic enough for them. Maybe I am subscribing to endeavors I an destined to fail at. Everyone else seems to display the natural aptitude...why can't I? They praise them for making replicas of work beforehand. How trite! I can't fight it though. If you are too clever, they are insulted. If you underperform, they demote you. I am exhausted because I need their approval, yet, I will never get it. What I have cannot and will not be admired by anyone...except myself. A forlorn thought, but an accurate acknowledgment of the endless performance.

We are laughed and shouted at on stage, till the curtain falls and the lights dim. We finally feel at peace, but cannot help but yearn for the strange coupling of exhilaration and humiliation when the curtain rises again. This will always be the case...we dance for them, as they watch. They will always be the audience, and us- the entertainers.

Why do I ALWAYS FEEL THIS WAY!

I will resume to my regular writing when my humor returns. Pardon the grievances written in streamline sentences!
I actually exhausted all my good thoughts today, while ruminating on the cause of my anger.

This blog is not for therapy, but maybe I can spare the embarrassment of this post by calling it a fancy category
"Iconoclast Rants- Another Fight is a Day's Work".

I know this sounds unnatural of me, but I wish I was normal and cookie-cutter intelligent.

The plebians get too much credit.