One of my favorite things to look at in nature when I was a teen-ager was is a single white evening primrose growing alongside a group of pink evening primroses. I did not often see the white evening primrose I usually only saw the pink, but seeing that single white evening primrose made me think of a lot of things.
Being different from everyone else around you. Being a stranger and being different. It made me think of how you could be different from everyone around you and still be apart of the group. But it also made me think about the fact that you could be different from everyone around you and in a group, but not a part of it. Not one of the group, just in the same vicinity.
I spend a lot of time contemplating the fact that I felt like a stranger looking in on my groups of friends. For the most part I really didn't feel like part of any group. This doesn't mean I didn't get along well with individuals or that I didn't really fit in with certain people, but I often times I felts alien.
It was in the last two years of high school that I first felt like a part of a group. For the first time I didn't feel like I was looking in on a group. I actually felt like part of a family. I'm still friends with all of those people today where is people from the other groups; some I'm still very, very dear friends with and others have long since passed out of my life.
I'm only now just contemplating this. Mulling things over in my head. I've yet to really think about the full implications or all the tiny different variances that would affect each of the groups I was a part of. That's my logical brain thinking. But my emotional side tells me that I think a lot of people probably know that feeling. That feeling that you are a stranger looking in at your friends.
This feeling and those thoughts remind me of some of the stuff Amanda Palmer has said. Some of the tales she tells from her time as the 8-foot bride. Offering a flower and a moment of intense eye contact to anyone who puts money in her jaw. That look of “I see you”. And their look back of “no one ever sees me.” (Amanda Palmer: The art of asking Ted Talk)
And now I've reminded myself that yes a lot of people know that feeling.
Being different from everyone else around you. Being a stranger and being different. It made me think of how you could be different from everyone around you and still be apart of the group. But it also made me think about the fact that you could be different from everyone around you and in a group, but not a part of it. Not one of the group, just in the same vicinity.
I spend a lot of time contemplating the fact that I felt like a stranger looking in on my groups of friends. For the most part I really didn't feel like part of any group. This doesn't mean I didn't get along well with individuals or that I didn't really fit in with certain people, but I often times I felts alien.
It was in the last two years of high school that I first felt like a part of a group. For the first time I didn't feel like I was looking in on a group. I actually felt like part of a family. I'm still friends with all of those people today where is people from the other groups; some I'm still very, very dear friends with and others have long since passed out of my life.
I'm only now just contemplating this. Mulling things over in my head. I've yet to really think about the full implications or all the tiny different variances that would affect each of the groups I was a part of. That's my logical brain thinking. But my emotional side tells me that I think a lot of people probably know that feeling. That feeling that you are a stranger looking in at your friends.
This feeling and those thoughts remind me of some of the stuff Amanda Palmer has said. Some of the tales she tells from her time as the 8-foot bride. Offering a flower and a moment of intense eye contact to anyone who puts money in her jaw. That look of “I see you”. And their look back of “no one ever sees me.” (Amanda Palmer: The art of asking Ted Talk)
And now I've reminded myself that yes a lot of people know that feeling.
Tata,
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