Journal, Diary, & Blogging / Connotation

        By my parents’ definition, I should not exist. Just like some chemicals cannot come into contact without causing an explosion, some personality traits simply don’t mix. According to my parents, I have conflicting interests. I have chosen both A and B, and now I must choose between the two, they say. I made my choice long ago, and I’m sticking to it. I choose the middle road, the road not taken, the path unmade, the outskirts. I am a true Child of the Twilight.
        In today’s society, it’s hard to be a Catholic. When the announcement is made, you are immediately barraged by insults, questions and unsettled scores. In today’s society, it is hard to be a teenager. The future of this world lies on our shoulders. We are expected not only to carry on the existence of this planet and its people but to better both of them, to reverse the decisions made by our forefathers that we now identify as mistakes. In today’s society, it’s hard to be “different.” People who stand out are always criticized. There are no exceptions. People who think differently are challenged, discouraged, and all too often, left alone. In today’s society, it’s hard to be yourself. How can you, when your nonphysical makeup is a formula that doesn’t add up in their eyes? In today’s society, it’s hard to stand up for what you believe in. When I say that I am goth, emo and punk, people assume the worst, never stopping to ask, “To what extent?” That’s part of what’s wrong with the current human race: it assumes too much. So, it’s hard to be Catholic, to be young, to be different, to be darker, to be yourself. I am all of the above. I feel like a hydrogen atom.
        Connotation. I should cringe at that word, yet I do not, for words are one of the few things I take comfort in. They’ve been with me since the beginning. They are God’s gift to me, my gift to the world. I will not abandon them until the day I die, lest I surrender my mind as well. Words are potent substances, and my love for them, my understanding of them, will not be taken from me unless wrested from my chest by ungodly force to leave me as a sputtering fool. Granted, silence has its place in my life as well, but in the silence are words, quieter and barely spoken but fully realized, and that’s part of the beauty of being a writer.
        As a writer, I understand that the world takes one look at me and says, “Okay. This is what I see, so this is what must be.” Man, they don’t know what they’re missing. Ever heard of the Iceberg Theory (by Ernest Hemingway)? That’s what I’m all about. Connotation is speculation of what lies far below the surface, the part of the iceberg so submerged that it never has a chance to float. There’s only one way to get to it: you have to go there yourself. So, pass it on, a person goes deeper than their makeup, deeper than their flesh. I would say that maybe .0001% of the population or less actually has a personality that fits 100% into a stereotype. Personally, I defy all definitions. The next person that you see – be it an old friend or a new acquaintance – look a little deeper and see what you normally don’t. You might be surprised at what you find.
        Yes, please do spare the world a little heartache, and take the time to actually get to know people before you write them off under a label. Life is short, but that doesn’t mean you have to be impatient. I swear it will be worth it in the end. Just try.

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