Dear Imbeciles,
They say monsters are those covered in green goo, the ones who walk out of a swamp smelling as if they live in it. Drip drip drip… Their goo dripping, leaving a path on the floor, getting ready to steal the lives of children. Metaphorically speaking, they say Adolf Hitler is a monster, which is probably true. The words that flow gracefully off his tongue, a monster disguised as a human; the words that he spoke, they became a venom, a poison absorbed by the Nazis of their time.
You know what made him a monster? What was it exactly in his words that made him so dangerous? Discrimination! All against a certain type of person that he hated with a passion. Then this discrimination turned into hate, and from that hate became a crime passed down in stories over the years. A crime written down in the history of our past lives and the sweet voices of the Holocaust survivors we know and have heard of, the experiences they shared, all due to this one man starting it. Do you know what that whole thing, that whole experience started with though? It started with an opinion, a judgment. A judgment that wasn't necessary to be precise.
So here is my question to you… Why must you take the time out of your day to waste it on judging other people? I’m not saying you’re as bad as Adolf Hitler, who judged and killed other people, creating a huge case of mass genocide that went down in history; but still, why must you cast judgment upon others?
We’re humans, just like you... So why take the time to judge us for being us. Right now, in this moment, I hear some of you down the hallway. Tap tap tap… The sound of your sneakers scrambling across the floor, usually before you go around talking about and gossiping about some person; making fun of them behind their back or even right in front of them and then suddenly, just like that, you ruin their day. Why?
Your voices are cold, filled with judgment, they are the chill that runs down my spine and those of your victims; provoking the goosebumps to finally rise above their smooth skin; all this towards the person, the people, and myself that you decided to cast your degrading sentences upon. Why?
It is at this moment all of you become the reason I don’t want to get out of bed, let alone just come to school and show my mentally exhausted self to you guys; all of it only to be judged once again. They need a break! I need a break! Can't we take one? You need to understand, just because you don’t like the way they they do things, the way I do things, does not give you the right to compare our lives to yours. You need to realize that this is not okay, we are not okay.
Just because we do not do things the way you would like, does not give you the right to say things that affect us so much. They affect us so much that we suddenly suffer an even worse depression than most of us already have suffered; causing us to have nights where our insomnia swallows us up, keeping us up crying with our sorrows, our insecurities, our mistakes. Then we cannot sleep, so we grab whatever we can to soothe our minds, to bring us the peace that most of us truly deserve, but we cannot so we grab at our phones, only to read over the texts, the messages, the hate, the comments; the tears trailing and falling down our cheeks, and yet, even now, you still don't care.
What is the point of all that? How does that help you with your life in anyway? I get that you may have the want, the desire even, to feel superior to them, but give it a rest, sometimes those people already feel shitty as it is, they don’t need you raining on their parade or adding any more negativity to their lives.
You guys think of your freedom of speech as an entitlement to make others feel bad with the sharp pierce of your words; the wound it leaves behind menacing, a wound that usually never heals, but you do it anyways. You selfish bastards do it anyways, because you feel the need to point a finger and laugh at a person that really didn’t deserve any of it at all. When you do this, it is you taking advantage of your freedom, your voice is a right and a freedom, but to this one person, your bullying, your hating, your shattering their self-esteem is not.
Why don't you understand? We're not you, and we don't plan to be carbon copies of you! You guys are a huge part of the reason that people get depression, the reason that people end up wanting to kill themselves, the reason that the demons come to prey on the minds of these people, just because you couldn’t keep your thoughts to yourself, just because you decided to judge us. So why do I even bother speaking about this? I know exactly what is going to happen the moment you finish reading it. The guilt you will feel will start to menace you. Suddenly, even if just for a short while, and only a short while at that, you will start being nice to those you talk shit about, you may even apologize, and you will definitely feel guilty and apologetic towards all those in the past and present you had talked about.
However, once that guilt feeling goes away, and it will in that short amount of time, or you will simply forget about it, you will turn back around to the way you were before, forgetting that you’re hurting the feelings, the pride, and the self-esteem of this person, these people who are just like you, simply just another human being. Still, you’ll go back to being the monster that helps the demons claw at their minds and their last string of sanity at night. You’ll go back to the reason they draw red with a knife from the depths of their veins, out through their skin, and unto the world. The blood they spill representing their struggle to deal with whatever the fuck they are dealing with and the love they lack for themselves.
See that girl over there? Yeah, you guys are the reason for her silence, the loss of her voice she keeps trying to find. The blood shed and the scars represent her struggle to claw herself back from the depression, her attempt at trying to obtain even a little bit of her sanity, even just for a second. She's trying her best to go to school with at least with a fake smile, so that no one would ever have to know that she knows or that she’s deeply troubled by her insecurities that you repeatedly mock and poke fun at. You guys are the reason she can’t happily go around in crop tops or short shorts, because it shows on her skin, the areas she attempted to draw her sanity from. Showing her sun kissed skin to the world; it becomes only a dream for her. A dream tossed away into an ocean, an ocean of blood, because suddenly that’s the only ocean she can truly feel at home in, the only ocean she has to make sure she can keep her priorities and stability straight in.
The blood she sheds representing the times she was simply quiet and didn’t reply to those who poked fun at her. Her blood representing the words she wish she could’ve said, the emotions she wished she could’ve shared, the want to fight to continue living on, and that she’s willing to hurt herself and risk her own blood to try to push and make it through. She knows that if she did wear those shorts, got rid of her bandages, wore short sleeves; people would gawk and stare at her scars, call her a drama queen or simply insane, but this was because of you.
I could imagine the faces of shock you would make if she removed her clothing and stood in front of you, the burn scars across her back, and the cuts across her thighs... You say it’s her choice? That maybe so, but I still think if it were up to you, you’d lose a little blood just to scare those demons, those thoughts away from your mind.
Now you'll make excuses, say you don't know anyone like this, or you don't see anyone who experiences this. Well, guess what? The "she" and the "we" is all ME. This is only me I am talking about and I am sure there are other people out there who still have it worse. Still, if someone were to put a mirror up to my smiling face as I talked to them, I wouldn't know who the fuck I was seeing, because that is the character, the facade, I've had to create just so i could satisfy the people around me, so that I could walk around with the confidence I know isn't real and hope I know I do not have. In all honesty, I wish that people could see through it. I am depressed and lonely as all hell, I just want it all to stop; I'm exhausted and I just don't want to pretend anymore.
Sincerely,
Savagely Savitri
