I’ve been busy, busy writing for the past 1-2 weeks. So in this piece, I’m going to write about that as well as releasing all of the thoughts that piled up over time. That piece is one that I don’t plan on publishing, as I fear that people do not have the nuance required to interpret and appreciate it. I’ve poured my soul into it so I’m still proud of it regardless of it being read or not.
I’ll term the piece that I was working on as “Repeating” since I do not have a better name that would do it any justice. Speaking of justice, the main topic of “Repeating” was discrimination. Since it seems that any explanation that I write becomes elongated, I’ll just explain why I wrote it.
I chose the topic of discrimination as I observed how some people were able to engage in discriminatory conduct, either by words or actions– these people were able to do so because they belonged to a minority. Keep in mind that in the US, the majority group is White Americans. I’m explaining this so I can justify the word “minority”. Since the majority group is white, any other group would be classified as a minority.
The problem here is that an individual that hails from a minority group can use that status of minority to deflect any attempts to actually hold them accountable. This effectively creates a double standard, since I know that if things were flipped around, there would be more outrage and backlash resulting from the behaviour that some people engage in.
To make it clear, I’m criticizing individualistic behaviour, behaviour committed by an individual– not by a group, so don’t get it twisted. I simply don’t like the precedent of “Rule for thee,not for me” that’s unconsciously given strength by this behaviour. If anything, it’s my personal mission to drag them out from those high chairs and chain them to the same rules as the rest of us.
If a person wishes to engage in such behaviour, that is fine by me– since the Founding Fathers gave me the right to retaliate, hence the First Amendment. But the audacity in which they use struggles that they never felt as a shield against my retaliation is something that incenses my mind.
You cannot hold both shield and sword, if you wish to wield the sword of discrimination– then you must forfeit the shield of your people. Selective accountability is a concept that should be retired, a concept that reeks of discrimination.
That was essentially the gist of “Repeating”, except that I wrote it with a different lens, a lens that let me channel my anger into it. What you’ve read here is just a gentler version of the words I have for this.
In my original draft, I was more levelheaded and my writing still had an element of normalcy since I didn’t engage in too much creative liberties. But, that quickly changed after I got hit by an inspiration that allowed me to express my anger…. in a more passionate wording, emotionally charging it.
That idea was to link historical references to it to shore up a weakness of my writing. When most people write about discrimination, they either have no target at all or have no fear towards the backlash that they’ll receive.
The problem is that my writing targets everyone, since the concept of majorities and minorities is subjective. If I do not target everyone, then my work would contradict my intent by being discriminatory– creating a paradox and a backlash that would bury me three feet.
If I link historical figures who fought against discrimination, it’ll serve to add the weight of time behind my words and at the same time deal with this problem that I had. As a result of this, my writing became more intense since it has become apparent to me that my generation lacks madness in a non-traditional sense.
The forebearers of our times fought with every breath for the rights that we currently enjoy yet we seem to be regressing. I’ll limit myself to a single line as I have no intent to start a new tirade– I’ve already written everything in “Repeating”.
The emotions that I’ve inscribed in it are heavy enough for me to add four layers to protect it from being misinterpreted.
The first was the addition of a preface to clarify my intent before they could see the opening line which was “There is a trend that has been adopted, one that infuriates me just by thinking about it– a trend where the oppressed have now become oppressors.”
The second was the addition of a terminology section to ensure that the people understand the meaning of some of the terms that I use. I went into a dive on the meaning of racism and divided it into its individual meaning and its collective meaning.
The third was an afterword that lets me speak more, since my work is in the end a creative writing work. I can’t be too explicit in the main piece since it’ll ruin the writing. So, I used the afterword to explain my actual meaning and to include myself in my own writing. After all, I too am part of everyone.
The fourth layer was an author’s note that clarified that some of the stuff that I did write wasn’t something that I believed in and that the anger that could be felt in my words was purposeful. For me, I have to consciously maintain that level of anger to write “Repeating” since I used a particular lens/ perspective for writing it.
Obviously, it’s abnormal for me to maintain such intensity for so long considering that I spent a week writing it. So, I had to clarify a few things like how I used mortal absolutism & how it didn’t actually reflect my beliefs, the personality that can be inferred from “Repeating” is not an accurate representation of myself since I maintained a pseudolevel of religion in my writing as well.
From another observation that I’ve made, religion is a powerful means of mobilizing people who don’t really feel like helping others. Since I’m predisposed to writing with a dated vocabulary along with the style of religious works, it wasn’t that hard to do so.
Once again, I called it a pseudo level since I wrote it in a way that a specific religion can’t be linked to it along with it being inclusive enough that most religions should be okay with it. I’m a bit skeptical but it should work.
While I’ve completed “Repeating” with 6,339 words, I’ve written more than that– after all, my work was originally meant to be read. So I asked someone to screen it for me– to help soften my words and point out any red flags. From there, I wrote annotations waiting for them, a wait that eventually led me to write a creative writing piece in a creative writing piece– creating an inception out of boredom with 1,146 words.
My work rarely gets any actual feedback and it’s not like I can really yap about it to another person without drowning them with its depth. I was a bit excited until I realized that a response never came– rather than leaving the illusion of hope, I decided to erase it entirely. The silver lining is that I got a new writing topic out of this.
It’s interesting how contradictory my thoughts can be at a time like this. I guess it stands as a testament to my character development? Since it’s their right as a person to exercise their autonomy just as I have my freedom– why should I question them for their silence when they owe me no response? But, at the same time, I have given them the courtesy of a response and they have failed to reciprocate this– so it would not be unjustified for me to question them.
Except, I took their right to reciprocate by simply denying them the ability to do so– if there is no proof that the conversation took place, then the conversation never took place. I assumed that they forfeited it when they could have their own reasons. Thus, I have recouped this loss as I have deemed the time given to be satisfactory.
Since I am paralyzed by a lack of knowledge and bound by propriety to not infringe, I can only erase that interaction and remain in place. I cannot bear malice as I have no justification, so distance and formalities are the only reprise I can find. After all, severance only has a few months to go before it occurs– to do it of my own accord would be a folly when time shall wash away the slight that I have incurred.
Sigh, this is why I love writing. When people ask me, I claim that I write out of boredom and attribute it to it becoming my hobby. My words are a lie, for writing is more than just a hobby and it is not out of boredom that I write.
It has become an act essential to me, since I’ve realized that there’s no expectation for anyone to reply to my writing. I don’t need to wait for a response since I know that I’ll never get one, it is a liberating notion. By sidestepping this expectation, I don’t have to be disappointed in a lack of response.
It is my way of speaking to people in the sense that I shall never receive a reply from them. I love communication but the unpleasant pain of unmet expectations and the breakage of social contracts is something that I shy away from.
Tell me, when you stare into the abyss, does the abyss not stare back? Just as you know of my writing, I remain aware of your gaze. I may not recognize the eyes that look at my writing, but I can certainly recognize their origin.
The only time that I am accepting of silence is when I write. After all, I do not expect a voice to sprout from my writing– I know nothing of you, thus I expect nothing of you. The notion of expecting something from nothing is one that my palette no longer tolerates.
I have written more than I spoke. My voice is the words that you read and serves as my correspondence to this world. Social interaction quickly loses its charm when your only company is doubt and confusion.
I may not be blind but I cannot see the Mount Tai that these rules of social interaction are inscribed upon. Thus, I choose to write instead— to compensate for my lacking voice. This is the reason for which I write, but I suppose that few people would be interested in such nuance.
To ask me such questions is no different from asking the sham question of “How’s your day?”. A question whose response is already predetermined. After all, I do not expect to put much value into my words nor invest the effort into reading it. At most, there shall be a few inquiries of curiosity before a new topic formulates itself or a leave of place shall occur.
I do not doubt your well placed intentions but your investment to its answer. I may not know your thoughts yet my perception is the cane that guides me. I do not want blind praise and encouragement but sincerity. A silent demand met with a silent rebuff.
Sigh, I write since I can’t keep my thoughts inside forever– it’s no different than drinking a poisoned chalice. I write as I treat it as a way to express myself without setting expectations for others. I write since I have to compensate for my lack of social interaction somehow.
Honestly, it felt nice to say that but there’s a chance that someone reads this far and begins to pity me. Let me be clear, I am the one who pities others– not someone who needs this emotional variant of charity. For those of you who question my sanity, I assure you that it is in pristine condition.
Apart from that, I simply write for the love of it.
Also, since I feel like yapping, I might as well start rambling now. While I did say that I don’t know you, that is not a constant. Deduction works wonders if you factor in sudden view spikes with certain events. It’s also easy to set up ways to lure people into reading my work. But, that’s invasive and I don’t have a sufficient cause for me to put that effort in. After all, I work on cause and effect– with rigorous ethics. That’s why I’m yapping about this since it’s both an eye-opener and a conversation topic.
I plan on making an actual website for my writing instead of just using my wall as background pictures for my writing on instagram. After all, 2,100-2,300 words is the limit of a single post, so it’ll be a pain for me to try to actually post stuff with over 3,000 words.
I plan on writing about instagram’s tendencies to push extremist ideology since it has the potential to complicate my future career. But, that’s for later since I’m still drained from writing “Repeating”. Trying to channel passion for a week straight at every waking second is a strenuous activity.
I plan on writing more lighthearted stuff for the time being to soothe my heart and to just yap. Another reason why I love writing is because I love to yap. I could go on and on about some topics.
While I’m not done writing for the evening, this seems like a good place to finish this off.
I hope you guys have a wonderful day or night.
Note:
I say guys as if more than one person is going to read this lol. I cut this off since I wanted to write more about myself. While this may not be any consolation, I love anyone who actually reads my writing to the end. But I don’t have any expectations for you guys– respectfully of course.
Congratulations for reaching the end once again.
Repeating
30-Tones