Friday, July 5, 2019

The only box I will ever fit is the one they lay me to rest in.

Human beings like things to fit. Fit in a place, fit within an idea, and most of all... fit into that little box in their head. Be it person, place, thing, idea, notion, animal, mineral, or vegetable... we humans will study it, classify it, regulate it, mold it, and beat it up till it fits that box in our head we have prepared for it. Far too often, the box is built by someone who has decided how it profits them to look.... and then they tell everyone "Hey! Look at this box! YOU ARE AN IDIOT if you don't use this box as your own!".... and people, generally being idiots, agree and use someone else's box.

Once we have a bunch of nice, neat boxes.... we use them to build our world. For far, far too many people... their world is built of boxes someone told them to use, because they really are too lazy, stupid, or greedy to build their own.

Well.... guess what?

I..... DON'T..... FIT..... IN..... THE.... BOX. Stop trying to shove me in it. Any box. Yours... his... theirs.... not even my own.

I'm not a Republicrat, nor a Demican. I'm not Libservative, and I'll never be a conserveral either. I am never going to join your religion. Don't worry... I won't join theirs either. I'm never going to adopt your party line, nor will I ever adopt theirs. I don't want or need your understanding, sympathy, disdain, respect, love, or hate in order to exist. Whatever your label of the moment is... it won't stick to me... nor do I really care what it says.

Whatever shape the box is in your head where you want me to fit.... IT'S WRONG. I don't really care why you keep trying to shove me into that box.... whether it's laziness, thoughtfulness, or some kind of agenda.... forget it. Your box will not fit me, no matter how much you want it to.

I live in a me-shaped hole in my life. It changes from moment to moment, and day by day. People I care about who share my world.... live in their own them-shaped holes which change as often as mine does. I don't try to shove them into cramped little boxes, and that means I don't have to get my feelings all hurty when they climb out of their box and turn back into human beings.

I suspect this attitude of mine is why my list of friends is rather limited. I am myself... a living, breathing, changing human being. I allow myself to be this... and don't expect anything else of my friends but the same. This means that we don't fit in boxes... and that frightens the sad little people who can't deal with anything that doesn't fit.

So be it.

The only box I will ever fit  is the one they lay me to rest in.

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