Stereotypical differences

Or how to be uniquely the same

I’ve always fit in that little crevice between the mold and the forest, just close enough to take a peak in one and a stroll in the other. The first I dreamt of forgetting, an arid land too scary for the untamed wilderness that seems to have cosied up in my heart, the latter of exploring all esoteric corners intrinsic to it.
Wherever I look, I find quotes posted by dozens of people around me, quotes about being unique, different, standing out… everyone thinks they’re the only ones, everyone is doing that thing that no one is doing, convinced and perfectly deluded that they have found the perfect combination of characteristics that make them totally special, just like the rest, and they want to scream it from the rooftops, in case someone missed the obvious “out-of-the-box”-ness they’ve managed to fit themselves into. It’s like an ice cube tray, no ice cube is the exact same size as the other, or the same clearness or leveled identically, but they’re all ice cubes, molded, flavourless.
I don’t think myself so different, a special something in a land of uncharacteristic nothings; I just don’t care enough to put myself in this or that group of people, to just be one thing for the rest of my life, defined and finished. I like the idea of visiting, observing, tasting, never sticking; I am no whole, just bits and pieces, floating with no repose in mind.
Trying too hard to stand out is the reason people are all the same, the reason why nobody is truly unique. To be an original, one must not try, one must not think about being different but about being themselves, for that is what each person has to offer, their true selves. Everyone wants perfectly drawn eyebrows and cat tshirts and butterfly tattoos on their shoulder and chocolate bar abs and and and… everybody looks like barbie and ken nowadays, everybody wants to be Kylie Jenner, everybody wants to be a bag of bones or an extravagantly curvy tanned clichĂ© with huge lips and D cups. Whatever happened to effortless classic beauties and little love handles, bodies that don’t look like Lego constructions and dresses that don’t remind people where exactly your bum ends? Everybody wants to show what makes them so special, but who exactly are you and what can you do other than draw the perfect winged eyeline and pick the best form fitting outfit for your hashtag? What can your hands, mind and voice do that will leave a mark? That’s what makes you different in the end, the things only you can produce.

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