people juice.

 as a little girl, i would rather watch the soup ladle drown in the density of the liquid than drown in the density of the room. amidst the sad party of people, i clung to my mother's bag. a sort of lifeboat in the sea of life - starved people.

in simpler words, i am not good with people.

if you think about it, it is a complex emotional disturbance when every neuron and cell in your body operates on the basis of whether the other person likes, or does not like, or neutrally accepts the behaviour. it is a frightening situation. some people call it social anxiety. i just say i dont like people juice.

in the few years i have lived, i have experienced relationships with a variety of individuals. with a bad habit of analyzing their behaviour types, i have a few in mind. 

there was the shapeshifter. they were unnervingly charming and had a political view on the world. with their strange, but effective avoidant attachment with people, it was hard to put them down. i wholesomely admired the trust they had on themselves. the con being, they never trusted anybody else. they listen. oh, i love how they listen. (not very fond of how they leave)

then there was the darling. the darling never hurt anyone. the darling listened to the parents. the darling listened to the teachers. the darling followed him into an alleyway. the darling let them paint on her body. the darling cries on the phone, and tells people she's sad. the darling is sad. sad.  people like the darling dont last in a world like this. the darling was an ocean of issues, giving herself to the world, hoping he'd fix her. spoiler, he did not.

i didnt like the authoritarian much. but then again, i didnt like anybody much. the authoritarian held the power, even if they had none. i never really understood the science behind this. they somehow held the tyranny in the room, although they werent even sure who they were. it was a sad state of affairs. but i learnt that one can feel angry, and sad, at the same time. people around you, call it strength. 

being in a societal jungle, i realised that i didnt find people like me. i reacted to situations differently than others. although there were no biological differences between us. i quickly caught on. it was easier for me to build a personality than to adapt. i had no intention of filling the gaps in the mesh of commonality. 

there were a multitude of things to learn. one, people like people like them. i found it was easier to communicate when you had similar mindsets, and i liked mirroring people. i enjoyed the fact i could embody somebody else without losing my core. although, i could never be what i am in front of them. two, people love to admire themselves, whether their reflection or compliments, everybody loves being loved. i found that a bit narcissistic, but then again here i am writing about my views of the little world i live in. three, people looked for homes in others. this one, i did not understand. i was an ever changing, ever repairing home for people who looked for residence, for families who looked for their child, for tired travelers, for guilty people who wanted to bury their conscience. it was a strange concept. human nature was exhausting to deal with.

even as a critic, i am guilty. at a point of loneliness, how i travelled roads to live in people who did not want me, who wanted me to never leave. i had a few friends, then i had none, then i had people around me loitering, looking, running. i am still learning. but i have stopped looking for home. i lie in the cavity of my grief-stricken body, allowing the acids to dissipate myself. there is comfort in self destruction. there is love in knowing who kills you in the end.

people juice leaves a bitter taste on my tongue and a sting on my legs. people juice in tiny people bottles, in people stores, full of people looking for people to people with. 

people. i like the word. it doesnt sound like how it looks.

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