|Here I stand with my difference but yet the same|
How many facts about other people do we have to read for us to really know them? Seven? Fifteen? Eighty? Even if it’s 100, do you think you will ever know so much about them? Even if you have been together for almost 10-20 years, can you say that you know a lot about them? I have been asking this question every time I see facts about other people. When I read something that is quite similar to what I have been doing, or thinking, or dreaming. It’s that when I realize that even I myself don’t know my entire own being. Why do I have to see myself in other people’s lives, in other musician’s songs, in other mouth’s words when we all know that no two persons are alike?
Although I agree that we are all different from one another, yet, we are all the same. We live in the same, unfair, imperfect, beautiful world. We love another soul, eat the same food, see the same sun, walk under the same moon, look at the same stars and gaze at the same constellation. I guess the only difference is the way we see things, the way we picture them in our eyes and the way we think about them before we go to sleep. Right now, I can imagine how people will react upon reading this. Some will agree, some will smirk, and some won’t even bother. I don’t even know why I am writing about this? I guess I am being the thinky-girl type again (if there’s ever such word).