(you didn't really think I'd post about something happy, did you?)
I have recently decided that my personality could be defined with the word "activist." I see problems and I want to fix them. The word itself, I perceive, is not looked upon favorably. When people think of activists, they likely think of picketing, yelling, fighting, and perhaps even hating. At least, that is what I think of when I hear of someone being an activist. Feminists are "feminazis" and PETA goes around bombing animal test sites, right? Those black lives matters people are cop-haters and thugs looting and pillaging, and so on. Activists get a bad rap. And yet, I find that I am one and it seems I am incapable of changing it.
I am not a very common activist, however. I have no one particular fight such as women's rights, black rights, gay rights, etc. I care about them all. I would label myself as a justice activist or a truth activist which sounds really shallow, arrogant, and stupid. Still, I have no better words for it. When I see lies, I feel an overwhelming urge to squash them. I have learned to do so with tact, for the most part, but this does not prevent a barrage of insult and hatred from every corner of the world. Lies are often emotionally charged outbursts and logic rarely helps against such behavior. At least, logic does not help immediately. I have the hope that such people will calm down eventually and reminisce on the words I had so graciously bestowed upon them. Of course, I never get to see if that is the case.
What I get to see on a day to day basis is hatred, insult, and worst of all: indifference. I care so much about truth and using truth to better the world that it pains me deeply when I see people rallying toward lies with emotionally charged propaganda. It hurts all the more when others do not care that this is happening and label me as an instigator for trying to speak up for those who need it. People unfriend me from Facebook because they do not want the controversies. I am ignored and shunned while living a life of isolation within the very group of people I wish to help. It has been this way my whole life as I strive for truth.
It so amazes me in a bad way that people are so thoughtless and careless for other people. So many Christians, for example, believe that the world is going to burn in hell for eternity and yet they do nothing. They lift no finger to change it. They are simply glad they won't burn themselves and go watch TV. It baffles my mind. We live in a world filled with so much hate and injustice and the consumers of the world simply sit idly by while condemning me of all people for caring. They prefer their Hallmark cards and cheery rainbows, bunnies, and sunshine so that they can ignore all the crap in the world. Why be reminded that people are losing their heads for their beliefs? Why be reminded that women and children even within our own cities are being kidnapped and forced into sex slavery? Why be reminded that every year thousands upon thousands of people die of hunger? Who cares that civilizations are sewing shut the vaginas of 12-year-olds so that it can be proven they were virgin upon their wedding night by plowing through it and revealing a mess of blood and producing extreme anguish for the girl? Who gives a crap, right?
The very people who should care are the ones being bought out or brainwashed by media to vote outside their best interests. Those who do care are the ones labeled as heretics and as divisive entities of hatred. Those who care are cast out or murdered much like the supposed prophets of the Bible and even Jesus himself. People cannot stand an activist. They want to hide away in their homes and pretend that all is well with the world and they hate all who tell them otherwise.
It is a very lonely life being an activist. A very lonely life indeed. There is nothing worse than being alone and hated when there are thousands of people around. Worst of all, I cannot become so ignorant and blind myself so that I might live more fulfilled. It is a part of me that will not go away. I am forced and destined for as long as I live in this shell, to be concerned about injustice. All I can do is hope that indeed a difference is made even if I never get to see it while living out my life in exile. The land of the free and the home of the brave? More like the land of the ignorant and home of the shallow. I wish I could give up in my anger and frustration, but even now I simply care all the more. This cannot stand and people need to wake up to the plights of others and start caring. It is honorable to care even if the world rejects and figuratively crucifies those who do.
Wake up and care, people. At the very least stop rejecting those who do care for they are the ones who can make a difference even if you do not want to. Of course, this is just one more injustice to be ignored and is likely to go unheeded. Perhaps only unheeded until I die, though. Everyone prefers the voice of a dead activist, it seems, when they suddenly become perfect beings and saints. What utter nonsense. We need to honor people while they yet live and I will continue to make that my life. I will help make this world a better place even if the loneliness kills me. It does not have to be this way, of course. One good friend could make all the difference. Alas, there are truly that few people who give a shit about anything which always brings me back to the question: is it me? Am I the problem? But every time I ask and ponder, the answer is a resounding no as I realize the number of people being abused and mistreated. It is not me. It is the rest of the world. This is my Fool's Errand. I will forever work on fixing this.