God bless the freaks (another older blog)

...Well, if you belive in a God/Goddess, or many, or nothing, or even the All-Mighty-Spaghetti-Monster in the sky (may He bless you with his noodley goodness.)

That's one of many stickers on my computer at work (the simpler "God bless the freaks," not the long drawn out one I opened with...) I try to keep my work space as reflective of my general eccentricities as possible, to keep myself sane and warn others, of a not-so-open-minded nature, that I'm not as easy to predict as you might think. I've got a magazine cutout of a laughing Buddha taped up on one corner of the monitor, a stick-on-tattoo of a dragon on another, tattoo shop business cards, another magazine cut out of the Dali Lama, Sobe bottle caps I found highly amusing, a clown doll that used to scare the hell out of me as a kid (but we go way back, so we've come to an understanding - it doesn't try to kill me in the middle of the night and I don't rip it's head off and set it on fire, douse the ashes with holy water, throw firecrackers at the still smoking mess, and then throw it all in stinky swampland for the gators to chomp on- and we're cool now) and an Easter Island Stone Head ceramic pencil holder on top, to name a few of my decorations. I'll not go into what all is scattered artfully *around* my computer, as we'd be here all day, but suffice it to say I've got one of the coolest desks in the place.

And today after lunch I added what I deem to be the crowning touch, taped rather precariously at the bottom edge of my monitor- a fortune, from the cookie that came with the chinese lunch special from Raley's, which reads: "Sometimes the wisest person is dressed in the rudest clothing." (This is topped only by the naughty fortune cookie that aon old friend got a while ago that said, "If you masturbated last night, smile!" But I digress...)

Why does this simple little message strike me so strongly? Well... I'm goth (I don't always dress it, but the heart is there), I've got somewhat extensive tattoo-work, several peircings, short hair (loud whisper: OHMYGODSHE'SALESBIAN!!!), I wear leather and spikes and chains and buckles and zippers and whatever other pretty shiny metal things I can find, and last but not least, I'm freaking proud of it all!

And, as do most people who don't conform, I know well the stereotypes placed upon all that I am, and more so, all that I appear to be. So, according to stereotype, I'm a ball-busting-bull-dyke bitch who hates her parents and loves pain and has the ink and metal to prove it, who worships Satan and cuts herself and hates 'preppies,' who's depressed, probably clinically insane in some form or other, and thinks that society in general is too goody-two-shoes for her. Oh, and did I mention that I also probably cry alot, alone, in my cold dark bedroom, because no one understands me and everybody hates me, and I know it all and everyone else is too stupid to see that, and why can't we all just get along and turn annoying ex boyfriends into smelly toads?

*sigh* Ok, one bit of that is true- most people really are too stupid to see that I know it all (kidding! but seriously, the dumbness level of people in general is increasing at an alarming rate and often times I can't help but wonder how some people are actually living because they obviously do not have a working brain... uh... oh, shit... that's right- ZOMBIES!!! RUN OR THEY'LL BITE YOU AND MAKE YOU STUPID, TOO!!!)

Ahem.

Otherwise, all that couldn't be further from the truth Like the length and/or style of my hair has anythign to do with my sexuality anyway, sheesh. But do people (most people) give it a chance and look past all the lies to see who I (or anyone who doesn't match up to to 'the standard') really am? What I'm really like?

Hell. Freaking. No.

I've pretty much gotten used to it by now, and rarely go off on tangents about it- I usually just smile and keep walking, and amazingly, oftentimes a smile is all that's needed to open a mind, and that's really cool. Someone looks at me sideways, sorts of backs away, and I turn and give em a big smile, and all of a sudden they relax and smile back. It rocks.

Usually.

But, it doesn't always work, and it's so damn sad that so many people remain closed off to anyone and anything different from themselves. How can you learn like that? How can you live knowing that the vast majority of the world is your self-inflicted enemy? That no matter where you go, you have to keep your guard up against "them?" I mean, gods forbid you should actually crack a smile at a stranger- you might actually find yourself enjoying the exchange, making a new friend, learning, and we can't have that, now can we? *sigh again*

So the fortune made me think of all of the ways humans have of debasing the pure and simple experience of person to person interaction; of friendship itself, or the possibility of it. If there were no discriminations, no bred-to-the-soul-but-baseless hatreds, no fear of what we backwardly call self-preservation, just imagine the difference. No really- I'm not getting all utopia-minded, or bunny-hugger-ish or anything like that; I'm being perfectly, coldly logical. If we'd stop hating without reason, life in general would be so much... easier? Happier, certainly, to simply say 'hello' to the person who appears to be the exact opposite of yourself and have them greet you back and strike up a conversation that may be simple but fun and quickly forgotten, or which may lead to the kind of memory you treasure when you're old.

It's so damn simple. Just smile. Not everyone bites, you know.

But, to play devil's advocate, I suppose that the hatreds teach us as well, in their own ways. I think the most important lesson to be learned from hate is that it's a destructive force which, although mostly useless and devastating, can in the twists of fate or karma lead to amazing events which uplift the spirits of whole towns, cities, countries, teaching us exactly why NOT to hate or to leave others out. Backfire. There's a flip side to every coin, I guess.

But again, I digress. My point is, simply, that freaks (of any nature and walk of life) are human too, and the shells we all cover ourselves with are far more individualistic than society gives them credit for: stereotypes are lies which are easily swallowed and which are used to judge without putting forth the effort to look deep enough to see the truth. The stereotype is the cop-out, the sell-out. Don't give up your ability to think; open your eyes, and your mind, and your heart- learn and live and make friends with a stranger. It's fun.

Be wise, and dress as rudely as you wish. And don't think about the consequences; they're not real until you make them, anyway.

Prost, and meatball blessings to all!