I am the black dot on the white paper. The same one that the
kindergarden teacher places on said sheet of paper and asks the
6 year olds, "What is this?" So naive, yet unafraid to answer with
a silly response, they shout out, "It's the world!" or "The top
of President Lincoln's top hat!" or "The bug I smushed under my
shoe last week!" We all chuckle and smile at those answers, but
a childs' purity is brave.
They look at this world that we live in, this cruel and evil world,
with open eyes and open hearts. Brave is what we all want to be, but
what we all can't be due to the fact that we are too afraid of what
they'll do to us. What the haters will do to us.
As children we feared thunderstorms and large animals, never another
person. These days we fear subjects such as our parents, bad grades,
coming home late, and for us (you, me, and everyone on Oasis) we fear
the haters. The homophobes. The bastards who can't -- more like won't
-- accept us as people.
Society raised some of us into lovers, and some of us into haters.
Some will grow out of the hating stage and their eyes will be opened,
showing them that love is love. It's black and white. It has no actual
color. No actual race. No actual sex. No anything. Love is love. That's
it. Nothing more, nothing less.
The ones who don't grow out of the hating stage, well, all I can say
for them is, "I'm sorry." I'm sorry that they were raised to believe
that love has restrictions and rules. It's a shame that that's how it
has to be for them. It shouldn't.
Yet, after all this ranting and raving, I am still the black dot on the
empty white sheet of paper. I fear many subjects, yet I'm too afraid
to admit it. I feel small, almost invisible, and getting smaller by the
second. I fear my past, my present, my future. I fear never being happy.
I fear I will never make someone happy. But most of all I feel as if I
am a failure. A failure to myself. A failure to my family, my friends,
my girlfriend. I feel I am a failure to everyone I meet.
Recently, my glass has been half empty. Never have I felt so pessimistic.
Yet, strangely, I have never felt so complete as I've been feeling. I
may feel invisible and becoming smaller, but for once I feel as if I'm
where I should be, even though I do feel as if I am a failure. My mind
and heart have been set free to wander this earth aimlessly, yet with
more passion and anxiety than ever. It is the fear of not knowing what's
to come that has me coming back for more. It has me wanting more.
I may not be happy, but I am satisfied with where I am at.