Weird and Proud 2.0 by Ishoyor

So maybe this world wasn’t made for terrific people like us. We should exist in some astro-physical or psycho-visible existence where inter-dimensional travel is possible and boom tubes could allow me leave school and avoid the current debacle between my father and I.

Hey there, I’m talking to you… the weird little freak that feels misunderstood by the world because by human ruling and public dictate, your way of life is publicly unacceptable… if you fall into this category, then give a wiper, take a seat and listen to me say what I said all of last year but with new words.

They’ll ridicule you, taunt you, make jest of you, make life a living hell and then they’ll let you be. They’ll let go on two conditions:

  • You break and become the zombies that they are
  • You keep doing you till they know their taunts are like Vaseline on your baby-like skin.

Yours is a life only you can understand, it’s like that divergent movie and you: you really don’t fit into any faction, you’re a faction on your own and by common survey; humans fear what they don’t understand and can’t control. They’ll really beat you into joining them than groom you and watch you fly free, just like the first chickens were beaten into believing they can’t fly… its still surprising why chickens are not an endangered specie.

You’re different and different is good. Everybody can’t be conformed to the public dictate or as they politely put it “Socialize”. Non conformism is just as important as Conformism, like the war between Naija Jollof and Ghanian Jollof with Non Conformist clearly being the women who cook that astonishing pot of Naija Jollof… they create magic out of the normal, it’s so brilliant I feel like crying.


So you don’t have to dress like them, speak like them, believe their beliefs, listen to their kind of songs, eat like them… there’s absolutely nothing wrong with wearing shorts on a Monday, or using uncommon publicly censored grammar, or listening to a mix of Jon Bellion and Pentatonix in the stead of Meek Mill and Young Thug, or eating Eba and Okro with your hands when they seek Sharwama though sharwama didn’t do you wrong. It’s okay to simply do you and enjoy the simplicity of life made complex by our spell of wanting to be publicly accepted.

Be You, Do You, Be Free. It’s a darn better life when those irrelevant complexities don’t bug you no more.




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