The adjuration to be "normal" seems shockingly repellent to me; I see neither hope nor comfort in sinking to that low level. I think it is ignorance that makes people think of abnormality only with horror and allows them to remain undismayed at the proximity of "normal" to average and mediocre. For surely anyone who achieves anything is, a priori, abnormal.
Normal is a societal construct that is created by us. There is no consistency across civilizations. What is normal to one person is not to another. It once was normal to own slaves and be prejudiced against people of color like you and others. It was once normal to make women wear dresses and cover themselves. And long before that it was normal to cut off someone__ hand for stealing instead of putting them in jail. Eventually, all societal constructs fall to new ideas. Normal is one of them. (Varick Jaeger to Kieran Sung)
Stolen Innocence
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Normal is a societal construct that is created by us. There is no consistency across civilizations. What is normal to one person is not to another. It once was normal to own slaves and be prejudiced against people of color like you and others. It was once normal to make women wear dresses and cover themselves. And long before that it was normal to cut off someone__ hand for stealing instead of putting them in jail. Eventually, all societal constructs fall to new ideas. Normal is one of them. (Varick Jaeger to Kieran Sung)
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Let Life race you out beyond your own boundaries over and over again until you are comfortable with watching the Map of Normal's edge disappear behind you.Let Life show you that it is safe to exceed your own expectations and reputation--and prove that the only danger in following her into the wilderness is a loss of your own fear.This is when we gain the warrior's heart, the master's eye, and the student's mind. After that, Life holds our hand in every adventure and shows us things not possible before.
The thing I want to write most is the next thing I write.
Can you be happy with the movies, and the ads, and the clothes in the stores, and the doctors, and the eyes as you walk down the street all telling you there is something wrong with you? No. You cannot be happy. Because, you poor darling baby, you believe them.
I am both numb and oversensitive, overwhelmed by the need, the raw and desperate need of the girls I am listening to and trying to help. I'm overdosing on the trauma of others, while still barely healing from my own.I cry for hour at home and have fitful nights of little sleep. My nightmares resurface as my own pain is repeated to me, magnified a thousand times. It feels insurmountable. How can you save everyone? How can you rescue them? How do you get over your pain? How do you ever feel normal?
I spit on your happiness! I spit on your idea of life--that life that must go on, come what may. You are all like dogs that lick everything they smell. You with your promise of a humdrum happiness--provided a person doesn't ask much of life. I want everything of life, I do; and I want it now! I want it total, complete: otherwise I reject it! I will not be moderate. I will not be satisfied with the bit of cake you offer me if I promise to be a good little girl. I want to be sure of everything this very day; sure that everything will be as beautiful as when I was a little girl. If not, I want to die!