February 1, 2018
I saw a headline today.
A sad truth typed across white canvas.
Staring at my screen, the fluorescent sun of my singular universe, I urge the words to float away.
That inconvenient sense of guilt blooms within me.
And creeps like a vine, crawling through my mind… poisoning my bliss.
It’s not my fault, I chant, pushing against this intrusion.
It’s a mantra, my personal defense against this unjust attack on my conscious.
The headline will soon be lost amongst countless others… drifting along with forgotten ideas and lost causes, as such things often do.
There seems to be a tendency for purposeful dismissal.
We chose what we allow to cloud our already hazy minds.
Part of me contemplates how the world would be without these titles… the large font, bold faced fronts of a world so far away from our own.
From my reality.
How would we continue without hate? Or violence? Or fear?
It is a tragic thought that perhaps our lives can only thrive whilst others’ fail.
We are trees, tall and beautiful yet harsh and cruel.
We create wonder but take so much more… towering above the ground and stealing light from below.
Maybe beautiful from a distance, but upon closer inspection, is it not colder? Less diverse?
Us humans, we clamber over each other in attempt to be the best.
Yet how can we be satisfied with the workings of our minds… the ways of our world.
We judge children on grades, not character.
We label people based on status, not morals.
We trade away our time for things.
Possessions of greed.
We put a price to success.
Happiness is no longer what we strive for, it is something to be bought.
We preach love but practice hate,
And based on what?
Skin color? Religion? Family? Politics? Money?
Dependent variables in a science experiment gone wrong.
It’s everything and nothing to us all.
An unfortunate certainty that nobody is willing to protest.
But even so.
It’s not my doing.
Not my fault.
And it’s late at night now… busy day.
Had a history test… long soccer practice… flirted with that cute boy from Calculus… maybe I’ll even go out tonight.
But for now, I’ll scroll.
Swipe after swipe as I scan, my eyes searching the small screen of my big world for something. Anything.
Until I come across another headline.
Just. One. More. Interruption.
It twists and turns inside my mind as I mull over something so utterly incomprehensible.
Times New Roman never seemed so complicated.
The same font I used in all my English papers feels tainted by the words it now carries.
People take refuge behind computer screens, spewing hate with the aid of a keyboard and an ignorant mind.
It’s a circle, a never ending cycle of whatever this is.
Justice is now a battle between two losing sides.
Progress seems to be such an arbitrary word.
One step forward and two steps back.
But it’s not my fault.
I’ve tried. I wrote that one tweet about gender equality… weeks ago.
It got sixty-three likes — the most ever.
What else could I do?
I am young, there are other things I need to focus on.
School, jobs, family, friends… my future.
College applications are coming up… I have an essay to write, assignments to complete.
This can’t be my priority.
The word bounces around my head, settling this internal debate.
I will focus on this… later.
Because I am tired.
Tired of headlines.
Of this cat and mouse search for the truth.
Of my life becoming complicated by things I don’t understand… don’t want to understand.
Of politics and people telling me what’s right and what’s wrong, as if I can’t decide for myself.
I am tired of fighting this system… of losing a game I never asked to play.
So, exhausted and defeated, I finally shut my eyes.
I hate these headlines, how they make me feel.
And so, in the dark of night, I allow them to drift away.
It’s not my fault anyways…