The connection was never lost, because it was never real to begin with.
That realization has followed me through a lifetime of interactions, where I couldn’t help but notice the performance behind every smile, every conversation, every exchange. And that constant awareness has quietly driven me toward the edge of my own patience. The more I engage with people, the more I see that “majority rules” isn’t just about decision making… it’s a carefully designed system of control. A system that keeps minds uniform, compliant, and predictable.
Every day, I watch how independent thought and individuality are not only rare but discouraged. Instead, what’s fostered is conformity, taught and passed down to those I call “weak minded,” and I don’t mean that with insult but with empathy. Weakness isn’t a flaw; it’s simply the absence of the tools needed to stand apart.
We live in an age where conversations orbit around gossip, status, and complaints. Shallow cycles that never seem to break. It leaves someone like me feeling indifferent, even alien, as though I’ve shown up late to a party I never RSVP’d to. As you know, I often feel like I’m screaming the sky is falling while everyone else is too distracted to look up.
What holds people together isn’t depth… it’s the collective illusion. A shared performance where the masks matter more than the truth. And because I’ve refused to play along, I find myself stepping deeper into self isolation. When you see the script for what it is, it becomes almost unbearable to participate in it. The Performance I Refuse to Join.
I haven’t cut ties, and I haven’t burned bridges. I’ve simply stopped showing up to the play. I’m carving out distance between who I used to be and who I’m becoming…someone who listens closely to his own thoughts, who trusts his inner voice even when he knows others won’t be able to comprehend it.
Sometimes, I find myself asking why me? Why do I carry these abilities that feel like both blessings and curses? Why does my beauty, skills, creativity, and aura, attract love and admiration but, at the same time, invite envy, resistance, and hate?
It’s ironic. I love humans so deeply that it hurts, yet I find my greatest peace in silence, solitude, and space. I often feel like I’m living in a different dimension, one where my language can’t be translated. Every time I speak, write, or create art, I prove my point: few will ever fully understand what I’m trying to share.
It’s as though I’ve broken through the fourth wall of this Truman Show like existence, the matrix even. I’m on the other side now…knocking, shouting, urging others to see what I see. But most won’t, majority can’t. That realization is both freeing and devastating.
Still, I care. Still, I listen. I simply can’t play along anymore. Because when I do, I’m met with darkness. People who once loved my light now seem determined to dim it. Instead of letting my brightness illuminate them, they choose bitterness, envy, and sabotage. And though I’ll never understand that fully, I’ve been forced to accept it as part of this human experience.
The Human Experience and what an experience it has been. One that has offered me unsolicited trauma, PTSD, enlightenment, and at times…the shadow of suicidal thoughts. Not because I lack strength, but because of the relentless cruelty of those who can’t stand to see another shine.
More than ever, I’ve wanted to disappear, to blend in, to be invisible. Yet life didn’t design me that way. My light is too bright, too unyielding. And so, I fight. Even as buckets of water are thrown my way in hopes to short my fuse my, I still shine.
Because maybe that’s my role in all of this…not to conform, not to pretend, but to shine regardless. To be proof that there’s another way of living, even if it comes at the cost of misunderstanding, isolation, or struggle.
And that’s both the curse and the gift of seeing too much.
– B
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