Ode to a Misunderstood Soul, to the Society that Killed Him

Misunderstood. If I had to describe him in one word and one word only that would be it. Misunderstood. He was a social misfit. That is all people saw; that is how they all judged him. Had they taken a chance to meet the real man, they would've felt differently. But they never did.

He had crazy hair and that was usually the first thing people noticed when they first met him. Most people, unless they were "freaks" like us, were taken aback at his hair. Then he began to speak, and had they not been distracted by his piercings, they would have heard his deep, educated voice and brilliant mind.

He was not dumb, and even further from stupid. He was one of the most intelligent people I ever met. No one ever heard that because they could not get past his piercings. It was as if those shiny little pieces of jewelry made the people he was talking to lose their reason or become totally deaf.

Had they taken the time to look past the wild hair, few piercings, and visible tattoos, they would have seen he was handsome, in his way. He was definitely sexy, and completely charming. They would have seen that side of him, but they never gave him or themselves the chance. They judged his outside so harshly that they never took the time to notice his inside, and they are the ones who missed out on the chance to meet and know a beautiful person.

Had they looked at his inside, they would not have seen shiny piercings or wild body art. They would have seen a radiant, bright light, a loving, generous heart, a depth of feeling like they had probably never experienced, a wisdom well beyond his years, and a frighteningly, brilliant mind. They may have thought he was ugly on the outside, but they would have been surprised to realize he had a most beautiful inside.

He was misunderstood. He had a different appearance because he was comfortable enough to express himself freely. He was cynical because he saw people and the world how they truly are. He did drugs to escape a reality created by people like you. And in the end, he killed himself because none of you would ever listen, ever care, or ever understand.

He tried to be an individual in a world made up of conformists, he tried to be a leader when society is nothing but a bunch of followers, and he tried to be himself when you wanted him to be like everyone else. For this you punished him, chastised him, and pushed him aside until he was so lonely and so isolated that he took his own life.

And now he is gone and the world has lost a precious soul, a beautiful dreamer, a talented artist. Society snuffed out his bright light as surely as if they'd pulled the trigger themselves.

The world may not mourn his loss, but we will. We, the outcasts of society, the social misfits, the freaks. We have lost an equal, a friend.

Thursday, 20 January, 2000
10:11:42 AM