My mind looks for safety and control. Predictability. And let me tell you, people are hard to control. I'm supposed to respond to their demands and inquiries in an instinctual, fast way — like a snap.
Their unpredictability makes them highly dangerous. I look and see what makes them smile and become more complacent, more trusting. What makes them tick.
I wish that living among people was instinctual for me. The connection that some feel with the world around them — it never developed in me. I want to belong. I want it to be easy. It never is.
I understand that my take on it is an ideal — something that won't happen. I wish I were able to say that I don't expect it from life. There are a lot of aspects in my life where I haven't had much progress over the years: work, social circles, family — and finally, social media.
The sheer unpredictability of it all made me view people as violent, emotional creatures. Social media is their weapon of choice. It's so easy to use it as a hate-spreading tool — something that creates a wave of emotional hatred that travels with staggering pace.
I look at it, and I'm terrified each and every time. Cancel culture is one of the scariest things — it's easy to see the hatred spread just because people are emotionally baited to become a part of it, gaining motion.
The source of it all? A mistake that could happen to anyone. An opinion many share, yet suddenly no one will defend.
I look, not participating. A passive ghost among the living. I keep myself close and static, as clear as the water in an iceberg that hasn't been touched by anything alive in thousands of years. Safe. Rigid.
Yet something has changed for me. A small spark appeared, and here I am — writing, reading, and clicking “Post now.” Because I realize that I have things to say.
Coming out of my comfort zone is making my pink and newborn skin suddenly exposed to the winds, unrelenting sunshine, and disturbances that make me question the necessity of it all.
I don't think that there is one ideal way to address it.
Do I withstand and become hard, strong, and unrelenting?
Do I hide and stay soft, true, vulnerable?
Keep myself pristine and have easy access to my tears and smiles?
One might ask — should I bend and mix those two? Probably. Every black-and-white world is made out of tones of gray. But again, it's so easy to say, and so hard to actually live that way — make decisions, listen to your emotions, and notice those choices when they're present.
It's a dangerous world. Risky and confusing.
I struggle to act and commit myself when I fear experiencing it. Ironically, that fear creates a mechanism in my head that feels eerily similar to the emotional wave that can spread like a virus across communities.
There is an ongoing battle inside my brain. An idea takes root. It searches for the best thing that could bring it nourishment. With a small amount of resources, it dies out — ignored. Just like a weak, small moon that tried to create a tide to bring the land under the water. It isn't enough.
But sometimes — only sometimes — it grows bold. It grows risky. It wants to make a difference, and the nourishment is just enough. One moon turns to multiple. One person becomes an army. One thought evolves into an inspiration.
I look at the world, and I ask myself a question.
Where to create a bonfire?
How long can I keep it going with the momentum that I have inside?
Is it too much? Not enough?
And, actually — do I care if it does?
The water is already crawling over the land.
The decision has been made.
The control is slipping, and the danger comes in — invited.
That, my dear readers, is how I created this profile. From the confusing mix of doubts and the feeling of inspiration making some thoughts burn and become too hard to ignore for much longer.