leaveten's Diaryland Diary

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tales of the forgotten.

the stories of sadness and struggle. people love the poetry of it all. the sadness, depression, anger, outcast, viability that translates to vulnerability. the stories that speak to our souls, the ones that hit us hardest, are the ones that break our hearts. but the sadness is never stand alone, it can't exist in our memories without the component of redemption. we are attracted most to a product of the absurd, the tales from rock bottom. the individuals that had, what we believe, every excuse and opportunity for failure with no less than the weight of the world on their backs, and stood tall any way. they faced hardship and struggle and prevailed against the perilous nature of the dark, unforgiving world. they came back from the depths of their depression with stories of great triumph against the odds. we bask in these stories, we preach them like they're fairy tales of reality, and we get lost in the romance of their exultation. these people are credited as great strength finders, powerful beings with an almost unrivaled capability for amplitude. and without any sense of awareness, we do so at a great price.

and what of people who didn't overcome? their stories don't have the triumphant component that allows for romanticism. they fail to captivate us, and more than that they strike fear in us. we neglect the tales of the defeated because we ourselves don't want to admit the option of it. they are squandered not only by circumstance, but by the hands of their peers and deemed unworthy of acknowledgment. they are noted only as weak representations of the human spirit, when in reality their struggles are comprised of nothing remotely reminiscent of weakness. yet, in only this sense, in only these stories, we allow outcome to define everything without any rational realization that outcome is the one variable that can't be controlled.

most people that overcome odds didn't overcome them at all. they didn't pave the way or find a hidden path, they looked upon the path that was set before them. they had an option of redemption and seized the opportunity. this is still greatness, because even with that option, weak men fall. however, it can't be forgotten that some exist without that advantage. for some people, there is no path outside of sadness. these people live among the darkness and deprivation without any even accidental chance of absolution. these people are the forgotten. we shutter to tell their tales for fear that they might be true. we cover them with judgments of weakness and talk only of what could have been done differently, even when nothing could have been done. and they live knowing their stories will never be told. they will be the hero's of circumstance that their luckier counterparts were able to be. no one will write books about them or share their tales. instead, they will deemed as weak victims of subjugation. they will be spoken of, if even at all, as a cautionary tale. and they are victims in a way, victims at the hands of misunderstanding. it's not their failure, but our own, that makes them that.

my question to those judging the forgotten, to those who chose to attribute weakness to the sufferers, the unlucky, the ones without a painted path- is a life wasted any better than a life lost?

11:25 pm - 04-06-15

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