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An excerpt from the October issue of Lozenge (available now on issuu!) Words by Talia // Art by Ruobing
REVOLUTIONS - an open letter by Ruobing
Warmth - a piece about social anxiety
Often times I feel that everyone I know is an extrovert, whether they are aware of it or not. This isn’t true but I only feel this way because everybody I know is more extroverted than me. Nobody I have ever met can relate to me in the way that they understand why I can never fit in anywhere. I don’t do well socially; that much is obvious. I get nervous and my voice cracks and sometimes I cry out of frustration because it’s so hard to communicate and I don’t know how to make someone understand that. I don’t know how to talk to people. I look down and think about everything they could be scrutinizing me for and then I think about how I reek of desperation. It’s so hard to interact with other humans and I can’t do it. I can’t. I used to be outgoing and friendly as a child. Instead of blooming as I got older, I turned inwards and grew into myself. My layers are inside of me and they can’t be peeled away. I’ve always blamed this on myself and part of me still does. Maybe I’ve done this to myself. I can’t tell the difference. What was it that repelled other people from me? What was it that made me socially diseased? Am I the girl that should have died a long time ago? Maybe I’m an ancient manifestation of hopelessness and angst. For the longest time, I was really angry. It was all pent up anger at myself and at everyone else. At everyone who ever bullied me, isolated me, or called me names as a younger kid. I wanted change. I didn’t want to be stuck. The idea of eradicating this social illness from my mind really appealed to me. But I can’t do that, so now I’m trying to accept that I’ll always be outside society. What is perhaps the most frustrating thing of all is when people try to make me feel as if I am understood. As if they get it. As if they know what it’s really like to stand in a crowded room and feel isolated. As if they know what it’s really like to feel like they bother someone just by existing. I’m a walking contradiction. I want people to like me but I want to hate them at the same time. I want to buzz and yip and talk to people but I want to fade into the walls. I’m everything I hate but I’m my own soul mate. I’m really self-obsessed yet I always try to draw attention away from myself. I’m delusional and insecure. I have been so cold for so long. This winter has been eternal and agonizing. Besides the physical aspect of being cold, it feels like I have a layer of ice within me at all times. In my mind, in my heart, in my soul. Have I really done this to myself? Have I really separated myself from everything I desire? I want to live without thinking about these things. Now, all I crave is warmth, pure blinding heat.