These early morning thoughts before coffee. I never know where my mind is going to take me. This morning with the television on in the background I hear a documentary about wolves. And like often times, something so simple can trigger something so groundbreaking.
When I was a teen I can recall it began. My fascination with wolves. I could not soak in enough of these misunderstood beasts and even took to collecting figurines to adorn my bedroom with. Yes, amongst those Teen Beat posters strewn across my walls of omg he’s so hot boys, was my quickly growing obsession with wild animals. Oh yeah my friends totally got that…not…My first true sense of refusing to conform. I just didn’t realize it. It wasn’t intentional. But truly is it ever? Are we just not being true to ourselves? I guess at the time I didn’t really go full circle with why I was so attracted to them but now as an adult, looking back, I get it. At least *chuckling* I think I do. Sometimes I’m even too weird for my own self.
These magnificent creatures as I said living among the wild have always been misunderstood. Free spirited, untamed and undoubtedly impossible to be tamed. Because the world did not understand them, their anything but consistent behaviors, they were deemed dangerous. Make shift fences built to keep them away for fear of killing livestock. Laws created to ensure the decline in their reproduction. Overall humanity feared them and still do. Natural born killers they say.
Really? Wait for it…
Ignoranace is not bliss. It is archaic. It is irresponsible. It is living in a box, afraid to except diversion. Afraid of the unknown. Because you don’t understand it, it must be bad. People suck.
Me, my writing and overall my personality…I relate very much to the wolf. I’m a textbook introvert. Big shocker I know. I have a hard time conforming to a certain style. I find myself all over the map when it comes to things I’m interested in. My music, art, reading, the way I dress, my writing. Pretty much everything. I am in essence a hybrid I suppose.
And with that feeling comes a sense of not really belonging in one place. I have struggled with this my entire life. I find myself at times now trying to fit in. Trying to conform. Trying to be “normal”. Over obsessing with what people think. All the while, inside, the wolf cries.
I have so many different aspects of me that I keep hidden. Simply put, from fear of being misunderstood. That is why I write. That is where my poetry is born. That is where the shit show of characters in my head comes to life. And none of them or my words have a filter. I cuss. I’m obsessed with sentence fragments and these puppies right here … are my bff’s. Straight up I’m different and for the most part I’m cool with that.
A lot of us introverts I’m sure relate to the wolf. I’m certain I’m not alone. Out there in the shadows you are lurking. Just shoveling along. Doing your thing, not giving a fuck or doing your thing wishing you understood why you are the way you are. It’s a roller coaster for me sometimes. Some days I beat myself up for being this way- Not literally, truly I’m a wimp. I can play some mad soccer though-Then sometimes I relish in my diversion and thank my lucky stars I’m not living in a box, staring at the world with rose colored glasses.
I guess the moral to my morning rant is don’t be afraid to howl. Do your thing. Don’t lose sense of yourself. Don’t let anyone convince you to be otherwise. We are all different, yet bleed the same. And on a side note but albeit very important one, if you so desire, check out the wolf. In some places it’s threat of extinction is quite real. We can’t let these beautiful creatures die can we?
Thanks for reading.