camicazy

Meshed Up
2002-04-13 08:24:31 (UTC)

differences

i have a photograph of myself in my wallet. it's a black-
and-white graduation photo and i look really old in it
because of the hairstyle and the makeup.

the people back home loved it. they said i look really good
in it. the photo was enlarged and put in a frame in our
living room. my grandpa even said, 'your graduation photo
is very nice. very beautiful. you don't look like you.'

my friends loved it too. they asked for copies, asked where
i had the photo taken, et cetera. i was praised. i actually
thought it was a good photo.

last night my friends here in melbourne saw that photo as
well. they didn't like it. one of my friends said, 'is that
how chicks from your country look like?'

a person who also came from my country quickly shook his
head and said, 'no way!'

another guy said, 'candice, if you go back to your country
now, you will be damn pretty!'

and mind you, i am not pretty.

it just struck me as interesting. two responses once again
from one picture. two responses from two different groups
of friends. but it was just one picture. one. was it a good
photo then? or was it a bad one?

we see the same things very differently. sir menguin
said, 'red is a different red to different people. but it
is still the same red.'

is that why there are conflicts in this world? because we
see the same things differently? because morality is
relative? because, as sir menguin said, 'man perceives
morality as relative?'

but then, is 'different' good or bad? some people say that
being different is good. that individualism is good. that
not conforming to the world is good. but then, some people
say that being different is bad. that individualism is
selfish. and not conforming to the world is just plain
stupid. is 'different' good or bad then?

but what if 'different' is neither good nor bad? what
if 'different' is just...different?

what is the source of evil? is it because evil truly
exists? or is it because man thinks evil exists? is it
because man makes evil exist?

will i ever find the answers one day?
will i ever find myself?
will i ever learn to love the hated,
the man, the ghost, the elf...?

i came up with another poem... i think i'll call it 'the
child' :

why,
you ask,
does the world turn.
why does it spin
and waits for none?

when,
you wonder,
will there be peace?
will man live long
in happy bliss?

dear,
i say,
the world moves on.
but life's a journey
we can control.

peace,
i think,
will not arrive.
but we can try
and give and strive.