All my life I felt I didn’t fit in. Before running from my home, I couldn’t have cared less about what a woman was supposed to care about or what all my girlfriends were doing. After the escape, no longer having Russian society breathing down my neck telling me how I should live, I was still completely alone, surrounded by cultures where the accumulation of goods, status, and following the permitted path are paramount. Today, I find myself in a world I never thought possible in this day and age, and one where I find it nearly impossible to go on.
If before I believed that my kind of people were out there somewhere, today I am not sure I will ever meet them. It is possible that what began with the Industrial Revolution has transformed the human world into an artificial, painful, and lonely existence. Most convince themselves that this is what they want and live their entire lives lying, pretending, erasing their true selves. I cannot do that after two decades of living on the run and outside the mould. This is why, no matter where Meg and I try to coexist with people, it just doesn’t happen.
I am hurt. I am lonely. I don’t see a way out. All I can do is write about it.