Broken is the world we live in. Once we accept this fact, many things in life will become all the clearer. Day by day, we all go through our lives on autopilot. We wake up, we either take a shower or eat, go to work or school, come home, and repeat the cycle all over again. It is an unquestionable part of the human design; as humans, we live our lives by doing what is familiar and brings us a sense of safety.
In this is the darker, silver lining – some of us, day by day, go through life under the heavy weight of the monsters that constantly try to drown us. Some kids go to school and face bullies, quietly suffering under their harsh words and their harder fists. Some women go to work, or to school, and are sexually harassed but say nothing.
Men and women alike are taken advantage of, either for their mind or their body.
Children are pure and innocent, but confusion circles in them when they go home to find one, or both, of their parents passed out drunk on the floor. At the end is our elderly, their voices becoming soft and their memories forgotten. These are things that occur to people, but these are only a few of many horrors happening in the world.
Noise, it surrounds us. It is more than sound, more than little things meant to steer us away from the things we crave. There is war between countries and war between religions. There are those who are starving, there are those who are homeless, and so many turn a blind eye. These are things I notice, things which stir and circle in ideas for stories I have in my head that have yet to find their way onto paper.
As a writer, I find it to be important, more than I can express in words or in voice, to find these facts. I’m one of the lucky few who can stand indifferent to the nightmares of others around me, to not pay all that much attention on an emotional level so I can observe and understand on a deeper level I hadn’t thought possible.
The truth is one that that’s placed in pink: we don’t have to accept the darker nature of the world around us. We don’t. Yet too many people don’t realize that their lives can change, that the nightmares can be lifted, by their own two hands. Seems to good to be true, but this is something I believe in wholeheartedly.
Lets turn to the kid being bullied at school and the one who does the bullying. This is one scenario we all know, one each of us has had our hands in, because each us have been there – either as the abused, the abuser, or a bystander. Each of us know someone who has been a target of a bully, of a person who is verbally, or physically, assaulted. Each of us know, or knew, someone who targeted those helpless, or quiet, innocents.
How many know why this happens? How many stopped to look beneath the violence?
The bully, for instance, may be abused at home. Those who face this darkness have a few different paths they can walk – they can become quiet and withdrawn, lacking trust in all around him/her, they can rebel against the norm by acting out through drugs and drinking, they can take their own life, or, in this case, they can turn their anger and pain on another.
The victim could have family issues, could be self-conscious, could lack a voice because of never really having the chance to build one in the first place. He/She could be a smaller person, could be fat, could be unnaturally tall – many of these are traits that make them a target to others, makes it easier for a bully to have a reason to be cruel and mean.
When the two clash, chances are the two have more in common than either realize.
This is a vicious war between two people who are filled with pain, something that could be stopped by anyone willing to step in and pay attention. Chances are, some of you know how to stop this – you may have done so yourself. We are all told how the best way to beat a bully is by standing up to him/her – but that doesn’t always work. In the best case, the victim is left alone but someone else talks the fall. Worse case? The abuse doesn’t stop – it gets worse. A hopeless thought, the last one.
We build our own prisoners, our own walls. While many of us want to keep others out, we’re locking ourselves in. For those who suffer from depression, this is a familiar tactic that often results in the depression, and the pain, becoming worse. What we lock up will build until it has to burst, until something gives, and it’s a messy affair when this happens. Left alone, something that was meant to be a good thing can rapidly turn bad.
What’s the point of this entire thing? I haven’t a clue, really, aside from the fact that I needed to write my own thoughts down. I’m in my mid-twenties. I don’t have all the answers, but I have seen plenty. I was bullied, myself. I also have an underlining sense of depression, of hopelessness, that tends to linger instead of flying away.
Perhaps I think, on a deeper level, that each of us are responsible for the darkness.
In the same thought, I think each of us have a duty to inspire light.
I, like many others, live within a cage of golden walls crafted from my own artistic mind. I live in a cell I made for myself, but I’m working on taking those walls down. I want to embrace the innocence of a child, to see the world in wonder and color. To do so, I have to see past the darkness of an era of bloodshed and indifference and find the life and vitality which has always existed within reach – but always veiled. To reach the light, we first have to split the darkness so that life isn’t black n’ white but multiple shades of grey.