Where do you belong?

Stuck in the middle, in its vastness

Who wants to be here with me?

Anyone?  Everyone? No one?
Am I not good enough to play your game?
Are you too good to not let me play mine with you?
Am I not cool enough to be hip?
Not square enough to be lame?
Not anything enough to be nothing?
Or am I more than enough to be me?
So enough that it scares you?
Leaves you vulnerable like a newborn babe in the night?
Crying endlessly for love, for cleansing, for validation?
No person is an island
But if an island is where I'm most desired to be..
Most demanded to go, most ordered to stay...
Don't come to my island trying to belong while
Loading me in a cannon of contradiction and ostracism
And shooting me into the open water
I know I'm not like most people
Because most people make it a point to not be like me

 

 

I'm no authority on personality
I can only be me, and like what I like.
From the start, it was never enough for anyone
All my "friends" were action figures, my soulmates were siblings
My validation could be found in accomplishment, but it was fleeting
You can only do so much to be welcome
If you aren't wanted, what do you have? Who do you go to?
The rejects? And if they reject you? Then what?
The refuse? But it stinks, it's diseased, and it's unsanitary.
At least you're out of the way, right?
That's all that matters.  Life can go on, so long as you're not one of us.

 

 

Upon 30 revolutions and more around the sun, I've come to an interesting conclusion:
A table for one can be fun.  
The Muppet Babies were onto something when I was 6.
A person isn't an island: a person is a world unto themselves.
They know the inner workings, the rotation of the axis, the atmospheric pressure 
They can determine how safe it can be to let visitors land, or boundaries merge.
It's unfortunate that it takes many revolutions to discover this truth,
That it takes many invaders, many failed experiments, and plenty of planetary damage
From broken hearts and souls that seek to break others
Or hearts and souls undamaged who haven't the heart or soul to open up to others
So, perhaps, it's better to take my world and save it for those who can treat it properly.
The Earth is already damaged thanks to those, present company included.
Why should I follow suit and join the status quo in all its stubbornness?
Why not dare to be different, dare to be unique, dare to be me?
Why should I do what everyone else is doing because it's cool to skateboard with no helmet?

 

 

I tried being like them, and it was never enough
I enjoy being like me, and that's not good enough
I try to share myself, and they don't want it
I try to relate where there are parallels, and they'd rather protrude perpendicularly
So, I'll be Oblio and get to the point.

 

 

I belong to me, I belong to here, and I belong to now.  
No intruders allowed.
This world is limited to those who can accept it, not those who choose to reject it.