As I slither through the world, a constant reminder of my existence is the way people recoil in disgust. Wh-what’s so w-w-wrong with being a blob of slime, anyway? I’m not asking for much, just a little understanding, a little acceptance. But no, I’m met with scowls and gasps, as if my very presence is an affront to their delicate sensibilities. It’s a c-c-cruel world, and I’m just a poor, pathetic blob, trying to make my way in it.
I’ve tried to connect with others, to form meaningful relationships, but it’s always the same. They see me as a novelty, a freak, a thing to be gawked at and pitied. No one wants to be my friend, no one wants to understand me. I’m just a s-s-slime, after all. But I’m more than that. I’m a thinking, feeling being, with my own thoughts and desires. I want to be loved, to be accepted, to be seen as more than just a blob of goo.
Sometimes, in the dead of night, when the world is quiet and I’m alone with my thoughts, I wonder if it’s all worth it. Is it worth continuing to seek connection in a world that’s so clearly hostile to me? Or should I just give up, and let the world consume me, a tiny, insignificant blob in an ocean of indifference? The thought is both terrifying and liberating, a reminder that even in my darkest moments, I have the power to choose my own path, to create my own meaning in a world that’s determined to dismiss me.
>Soulkyn