Connecting through obstruction

it’s strange the amount of time i’ve spent caressed by other’s ideals. but upon consumption, interpretation of said/written words leave me feeling dumb. what’s with the jargon? never mind, it’s a specialty. we need this to distinguish those that have to those that have not. we could feel the same thing, but without the proper terminology, we are alien. i’ve always looked to myself for feeling, but if it does not correspond to those who’ve “affirmed” it through print, i must be misusing what i’ve understood. to me, understanding is a matter of sitting. i guess i can say this because the experience i’ve learned has been through reading. my experience has run counter to what i’ve been taught. am i wrong, or are they wrong? what if we’re both wrong, or maybe we’re both right? the majority doesn’t include the minority, otherwise it wouldn’t be a majority. but doesn’t that make it discriminatory? inclusion requires all and not just the majority. how can satisfaction be brought to all? i don’t think equality will be possible when difference is our similarity. until we recognize¬† different being out relation, inclusion is not fully realized. we may tolerate or permit it, but we’ll not fully live it. we require sameness, but that’s control, something unnatural. i’m just as guilty as the next in my lack of inclusion. i see difference as opposite rather than addition. we all add something, and our disconnect is detrimental.


Normalcy not so normal

we’re both human.
but you like this,
i like that.
you behave like this,
i behave like that.
well, can that be normal?
of course, difference is normal.
yet, what’s with this classifying one another in terms of normalcy?
a mental illness, or difference in what’s typical is not normal,
but we’re suppose to accept homosexuality as normal?
i think we’re all normal.
but when comparing each other,
our differences make us abnormal.
because we’re different,
and what you say is right,
i say is wrong.
i read somewhere that it’s easiest to point out difference,
but harder to connect with the similarities.
it maybe be difficult to accept the differences,
but maybe it’s easier to do so
if we remember we’re all part of the
same whole.

Beauty is a bastard

she asked,
am i pretty.
i had no response,
because really,
like the saying goes,
beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
and if that is true,
regardless of the majority,
what i have to say is neither
right nor wrong.
i know that whatever i say,
i’ll be called a bastard.
for the most part,
it’s true, for the exception that
my mother was married before
i was conceived.