““Don’t rub it in; you don’t know how I already feel. Everyone has flaws but does anyone really have to point it out? I see some of yours and yet I don’t rub it in your damn face, so tell me what did I do wrong? Why rub mine in my face? Why do you? I already am uncomfortable, it doesn’t sit well with me; but who are you to judge me? You don’t know if I’m doing something about it or just lazying about.” These were my exact thoughts on that day. Everyone is guilty of this once in a while but really who are we to judge others? What is this really about? What is she talking about? What is she uncomfortable with? Of course it’s my weight! Do you know how long it took me to convince me that I’m perfect the way I am? I’ll help you answer this, NO you don’t. My mates are either sleeping or doing something useful, but I sit at night thinking about the perfect solution. I know I’m beautiful, but do u know how long it took me to build the confidence you now secretly admire?
Yes! It’s the way I talk. I have been shut up a lot. But I guess you didn’t know that. You think it’s easy growing up without a voice? “shhhhhhhh!” they would say, “your diction is bad, don’t open your mouth in public.” 16 years before I finally found a voice, a voice in my pen and paper. Next thing they ask why she always writes, like it’s a bad thing. I’ll answer that; it is the only way I can say what I feel, how I feel and whenever I feel without being judged, it is the only way you won’t hear the girl with the “bad diction” speak. She found that inner peace just writing. Be it a song, a poem or a short story. Do you know how long and how many tapes she listened to trying to correct her diction? Is she really the only one in this? Am I also in this alone? Please let someone who understands speak up for me. You talk well, I don’t. No one will look at you with those big wide judgemental eyes, but me, I won’t sleep this night if I do.
He has hundreds of friends, parties a lot, never seen alone. He is handsome, his smile is to die for, OMG that body! Wow he is a MAN. He has also gone through a lot, but what do you care? All who came close did so because of his wealth; a man with many friends but no friend, drinks to stupor just to hide his grief. He has people all over but no one to really call his own. He used to be more than a handsome face you know, there was more to him than just that body, his money used to mean so little to him. What changed? No one wanted to know his story; the story of that one scar that stood out, the story behind the beautiful smile. No one really cared. DO YOU?
All these and many more affect us. I’d like to call them our inner demons. It just takes one person, one bloody person, one ignorant fool to bring back those memories. Who do I run to? Who do I tell? Who do I trust? I have all my answers. What are yours?”
Everyone looked on, speechless; different thoughts all with one thing in common. Not a soul clapped as she walked down the stage. Her head held high, her thoughts all out. It was like a burden was lifted from her. I just kept watching, following her about with me eyes. I stood still. Do I really care? Even if I did what do I do?