Feb 15

One day, I will leave. One day, I will grow out of my skin and into a shape more becoming, a shape less pusillanimous and less self-doubting. I was reading about changeling and how a human child was swapped in place of a changeling, an offspring of a faery, pixie and magical creature. They were different; lived and felt acutely differently. They felt unwanted and lost; never belonging. Curiously, it was believed that the concept was conceived because of the high deformity rates for children during the Dark Ages; autism was also seen as a deformity and it hurts me to think about the sad lives of little boys and girls, unloved and forgotten. Never being able to feel tender love because they were a wayward swing between the “magical” and the “human”, belonging to both and none. To belong to both is as equally difficult as belonging to none for when you belong to both, you fail to take a side and eventually, you will be perceived as an outsider by both. Ironically our nature, our frail malleable nature is so sick, so dependent on human intimacy and so avid and desperate to belong. We are after all communal creatures, delirious for attention and understanding from another like-minded soul.

Unfixed. Never Belonging.

I must learn to distinguish from the chimerical and the real. I must learn not to love the chimerical; the conjured hazy days of summer infatuations and efflorescence.

My mind shall learn to adapt to the cold of the weather, of the people and the environment. But I have an undying fatuous heart;

 And I will not love a figment of my imagination.