Invisible People
Once there was this girl. She looked like everyone else, felt like everyone else, ate, drank and slept like everyone else. She was born into a family who had done nothing particularly important in the world, nor anything particularly bad. They were a normal group of folk who carried on their lives like most, living each day in their monotonous way, complying with their societal roles handed down generation after generation.
Yet somehow, over the years this girl slowly transformed into one of those invisible people, the kind that are there, but almost always overlooked and never actually seen. The world had showered its misfortunes down on her, words had pounded heavily on her shoulders like a giant jack-hammer, continually bashing her further into the ground as she struggled to find her place, slot into her little niche and make something of herself. Eventually she just became invisible so as to try and steer clear of the rat race.
From this viewpoint the world took on a totally different perspective. She started to see everything from rainbow coloured eyes, absorbing it all in through every sense that was now tingling, heightened, opened. No longer would she allow those words to pound her, she grabbed each leg and pulled it out of the stagnant ground into which they had sunk. No longer would she listen to the words, analyse their tone and create pictures of the jaggered knives in her back. Instead she grabbed onto their jewel-encrusted handles and pulled them free, tossing them in the air and watching their blades spark as they bounced off the stony ground, left behind.
She realised that the world was filled with invisible people who kept to the shadows. She would walk past them in the street, exchanging knowing looks and seeing joy in eyes that knew. That felt. That saw it all and understood without having to say a word. It was a strange world to be a part of, but not be a part of. To be alone but accepted and befriended by other invisible people. To communicate with thoughts instead of words.
To be invisible was to finally be free.
Yet somehow, over the years this girl slowly transformed into one of those invisible people, the kind that are there, but almost always overlooked and never actually seen. The world had showered its misfortunes down on her, words had pounded heavily on her shoulders like a giant jack-hammer, continually bashing her further into the ground as she struggled to find her place, slot into her little niche and make something of herself. Eventually she just became invisible so as to try and steer clear of the rat race.
From this viewpoint the world took on a totally different perspective. She started to see everything from rainbow coloured eyes, absorbing it all in through every sense that was now tingling, heightened, opened. No longer would she allow those words to pound her, she grabbed each leg and pulled it out of the stagnant ground into which they had sunk. No longer would she listen to the words, analyse their tone and create pictures of the jaggered knives in her back. Instead she grabbed onto their jewel-encrusted handles and pulled them free, tossing them in the air and watching their blades spark as they bounced off the stony ground, left behind.
She realised that the world was filled with invisible people who kept to the shadows. She would walk past them in the street, exchanging knowing looks and seeing joy in eyes that knew. That felt. That saw it all and understood without having to say a word. It was a strange world to be a part of, but not be a part of. To be alone but accepted and befriended by other invisible people. To communicate with thoughts instead of words.
To be invisible was to finally be free.
What's Your Story?
Big Day Plunge
you took my breath away.
It connected deeply with me. To be invisible was a fear for me at first, then it became a comfort zone, then a bond that I discovered I shared with others too. Very similar to the girl in your post. We invisible people find inspiration in one another, perhaps it is fellow invisibles who hear our voices first and hence give us the courage to shine, be heard and eventually, be seen.
Kalikapsychosis
This is utterly brilliant. I love it so much....
Photography Tips
MS Paint Art
Movies and Life
I needed to hear something like this today. Thank-you,
Tracy
From The Home Front
Enviro Warrior
Dream Herald
Esoteric Bookshop
Flitting in and out of the shadows, leaving only the few points of my passing....
..and hopefully some warmth of my appreciation.
Lilla ...
Love Speaks
Food Slate
To be invisible can be pretty *powerful*...it's seeing beyond the seeing...
p/s...love the new banner pix too!
A Word From The Wise
Celebwise
feelings
Movies and Life
Beautiful, Ash.
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
It is true what you have said - I think invisible people shine in their silent ways more than the loud and vocal ones which we are sometimes surrounded by.
Thanks for your thoughts and I`m happy to read you have found your comfort zone
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Rock on invisible people of the world
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
This was intended to be an optomistic piece - about people finding their niche and a place where they could really live instead of trying to compete in a world in which they felt ostracized.
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
I am honoured that you would keep coming back
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Thanks Lilla, those new wings looks wonderful
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
This is very true
I love that! Thanks for coming on by
ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
It is great to meet you, thanks for coming by. Happy to hear you can relate - seems there are so many invisible people out there
Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Thank you. Sorry you found it to be sad, it wasn`t the intended message. In fact quite the opposite.
But it`s good that people read things in different ways and have different perspectives. That`s what makes life interesting!
Ash
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
WONDERFUL!
Mis
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories