magicfucktard22
Iron
- Joined
- Aug 21, 2024
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Somewhere, right now, in some alternate timeline or parallel universe, there exists a version of reality where every quirk, every seemingly "broken" piece of who you are, fits perfectly into place. It's a mind-bending thought. That in some distant corner of existence, your specific brand of weird isn't just tolerated, it's actively celebrated. The very things that make people here look at you sideways are exactly what make you invaluable there.
Every time you've dimmed your light to make others comfortable, every time you've swallowed your words because they were "too much," every single moment you've compressed yourself into a smaller, more digestible version, in that other place, you're encouraged to burn brighter. The intensity that makes people here step back? There, it draws them in like moths to a flame. Your overthinking isn't anxiety, it's depth. Your sensitivity isn't weakness, it's your superpower.
And, the thing is: That place exists primarily in the realm of "what if." And knowing that – really letting that sink in – creates this exquisite kind of pain. It's like being homesick for a home you've never actually been to. You can feel it in your bones, this certainty that somewhere out there, your particular frequency resonates perfectly with the universe's background hum. Yet here you are, slightly out of tune with everything around you, creating dissonance where there could be harmony.
Sometimes late at night, when the world gets quiet enough, you can almost feel it, that alternate reality bleeding through. It's in those moments when you're completely alone, paradoxically feeling most like yourself, that you can sense it most strongly: the existence of a place where your laugh isn't too loud, your love isn't too intense, your thoughts aren't too deep. A place where "too much" doesn't exist in reference to who you are.
And maybe, and here's where it gets really fucking interesting, maybe the awareness of this theoretical place where you're more appreciated is both a blessing and a curse. It keeps you going, knowing that somewhere, somehow, everything that makes you YOU is exactly what's needed. But it also heightens the contrast of your current reality, making the colors here seem a bit more muted, the connections a bit more tenuous, the acceptance a bit more conditional.
Yet we keep moving through this reality, carrying the weight of knowing there's a place where we wouldn't have to explain ourselves quite so much, where our edges wouldn't need to be quite so rounded, where our existence wouldn't feel quite so much like an apology waiting to happen. It's a special kind of torment, being aware enough to know that somewhere else, we're more than enough, while simultaneously being stuck here where we're constantly calibrating ourselves to be less.
Perhaps the very awareness of this other place where we're more appreciated is what ultimately shapes us into beings capable of creating that very appreciation in our current reality.
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Somewhere, right now, in some alternate timeline or parallel universe, there exists a version of reality where every quirk, every seemingly "broken" piece of who you are, fits perfectly into place. It's a mind-bending thought. That in some distant corner of existence, your specific brand of weird isn't just tolerated, it's actively celebrated. The very things that make people here look at you sideways are exactly what make you invaluable there.
Every time you've dimmed your light to make others comfortable, every time you've swallowed your words because they were "too much," every single moment you've compressed yourself into a smaller, more digestible version, in that other place, you're encouraged to burn brighter. The intensity that makes people here step back? There, it draws them in like moths to a flame. Your overthinking isn't anxiety, it's depth. Your sensitivity isn't weakness, it's your superpower.
And, the thing is: That place exists primarily in the realm of "what if." And knowing that – really letting that sink in – creates this exquisite kind of pain. It's like being homesick for a home you've never actually been to. You can feel it in your bones, this certainty that somewhere out there, your particular frequency resonates perfectly with the universe's background hum. Yet here you are, slightly out of tune with everything around you, creating dissonance where there could be harmony.
Sometimes late at night, when the world gets quiet enough, you can almost feel it, that alternate reality bleeding through. It's in those moments when you're completely alone, paradoxically feeling most like yourself, that you can sense it most strongly: the existence of a place where your laugh isn't too loud, your love isn't too intense, your thoughts aren't too deep. A place where "too much" doesn't exist in reference to who you are.
And maybe, and here's where it gets really fucking interesting, maybe the awareness of this theoretical place where you're more appreciated is both a blessing and a curse. It keeps you going, knowing that somewhere, somehow, everything that makes you YOU is exactly what's needed. But it also heightens the contrast of your current reality, making the colors here seem a bit more muted, the connections a bit more tenuous, the acceptance a bit more conditional.
Yet we keep moving through this reality, carrying the weight of knowing there's a place where we wouldn't have to explain ourselves quite so much, where our edges wouldn't need to be quite so rounded, where our existence wouldn't feel quite so much like an apology waiting to happen. It's a special kind of torment, being aware enough to know that somewhere else, we're more than enough, while simultaneously being stuck here where we're constantly calibrating ourselves to be less.
Perhaps the very awareness of this other place where we're more appreciated is what ultimately shapes us into beings capable of creating that very appreciation in our current reality.
