They’ll never understand because they’ve never lived a day in your shoes. Everyone has a different view of life. We all see things differently. So why do they think that they can control me? They think that if they convince me to do something differently I’ll listen and be what they think I should be. I don’t listen to them. Instead of them going away they’ll come at me even harder, as if I did something wrong. They attack me with their words. Choking me phrase after phrase. Stuffing my brain with vowels they think will change me. They tell me that I need to try harder and that I’m not trying hard enough. No matter how much I try they will never understand me. As if they know who I am.

They think they know me so well they can read me inside out. When truthfully a stranger probably knows more about me than they do. How could I live every single day of my life with such people when I can’t even be myself around them? I honestly don’t know who I am around these inhabitants. Every single time I’m told to do something differently I’m constantly debating whether I should even consider it or not. They agitate my head, pestering me to be something I’m not. I feel as if my brain and body are working differently. My head is detached from my neck doing its own thing while my body is doing what they all want me to do. My very own thoughts are running off, scared that if they are heard they will be judged. My lips are sealed shut, aghast that the slightest divulgence by anyone else will shatter their confidence.  Any outlander besides me will never get the chance to interpret my thoughts. My body is locked up against any outside contact. To think that I let myself think it was okay to listen to them. Now more than ever I find myself caught up between the words that want to revise me deriving from this psychotic planet filled with foreigners who have no clue as to why they are even here. All they ever do is try to make this jumbled mess mashed into something “better”. They will never understand people like me. They will never know how it feels to be red in a room full of blues. They will always remain outsiders who try and change my life. They will ALWAYS be uncivilized bodies walking the face of the earth. We live in a world of nugatory DNA being pulled down by an invisible force. Yet the people who consider themselves scientists have so many “cures” for things that can’t be cured. Everyone wants to change something or someone whether it's good or bad. Everyone wants to make it big or be known for doing something good in this world. In the end we still think of different things. I’ll never understand them, just like they’ll never understand me. To them I’m an outcast instead of being just how they want me to be. In the end I just end up being caught up. Caught up whether I should be who they want me to be or whether I allow myself to become someone they will not like.