Normalcy.

Sometimes when the chemicals in her bloodstream took over and she found herself feeling sad, she wished she was normal. Someone who looked around and saw cars, motorbikes and retail stores, not the greed and gluttony of humanity. Someone who looked up to the stars and saw twinkling dots of beauty, not burning spheres of flame that would incinerate her in minutes. Someone who could make conversation without a side dish of stutters and awkward silences. Someone who was accepted by society and comfortable in their world. Someone, who was the opposite of her.

During these periods of less-than-happy emotions, she hated herself. She hated her figure and her baby features. She hated her chapped lips  and her ugly nail-bitten fingers. She hated her inability to concentrate on her studies and that she had no motivation or will power to take the time to practise her hobbies. But most of all, she hated her conscious mind for allowing this hatred because she knew that others had it worse. While others struggled to earn money and went hungry, she had all she needed to survive and yet she didn’t make use of her resources. And yet, she sat wallowing in self despair wishing she wasn’t born.

However, this mood passed, like it always did, unravelling the shadows strangling her. She could think again. She could have hope again. As she made her way into the sunlight, one slow step at a time, she built a wall  around herself, separating her from her negative thoughts. Pretending they were never there. As the sun rose higher and the wall grew thicker, she began to function again. Her heart beat steadily, her eyes remained dry. She could remind herself that she wasn’t alone; that she had family and friends who would help her. She could look at the cars, motorbikes and retail stores and see a species that was trying its best to keep its little corner habitable. She could laugh and smile and have conversations about the stars, the milky way, the universe, without feeling like she was drowning. She could make conversation with a stranger without feeling bad about her awkward personality. She felt better.

Even though she knew that the day, where the wall would collapse and plunge her back into the deep recesses of her mind, was coming, she was happy. With her no longer clouded mind, she realised that nobody was normal. Not her, not her family, not her friends, not the newborn baby, on the opposite side of the planet, named Javier.

And for the first time since her last breakdown, she knew that this was okay.

-Icarus

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Standing alone.

The issue of bullying has plagued school systems for a long time. And in recent years has increased to alarming levels. Many cases leave the students with emotional scars that run deep and never fully heal, and some even have young children thinking that they have no other option but to end their lives.

This needs to stop. How can we just watch as these children get abused in every possible? How can we be idle spectators to their pain, as they distance themselves from the world for fear of running into their tormentors. Or maybe worse, plastering fake smiles and easy grins on their faces and pretending nothing is wrong. How can we ignore the bruises peeking from behind shirt collars and the colorful personalities huddled behind terrified souls? They are fellow human beings, just like us, and yet we let them fend for themselves, making them grow to hate their appearance, gender, sexuality and heritage. Making them grow to hate their very being. All just because they aren’t the definition of “cool”.  Oh, do excuse us for expressing ourselves the way we want to.

It isn’t enough to feel sympathetic and watch. There’s strength in numbers. If you’re worried about yourself getting hurt then it just shows your character more than anything else really. Stand up for what you believe in, even if you stand alone.

-Icarus

Edit by Iris.