I feel like there’s only a few flavors of different types of people out there. I’m losing it over the constant crooked septum piercings, shaved sides dyed blue, pagan witches, burners, and I swear no one read Octavia Butler until that meme went around last year and suddenly everyone’s favorite book is Parable of the Sower.

I have to pause to say I am genuinely happy a black woman is getting more attention to her work, she deserves it.

Back to this. It all feels performative. If you’re listing 4 white male authors then one black woman, like no, you’re not really expanding your view. You just want the brownie points because society feels like it’s falling apart, but you’re different, you’ve read this book.

It’s just like. I know we’re all on our own journeys. And if that’s someone’s starting place, that’s great. But when I go through ten profiles in a row and feel like I’ve seen the same person ten times with ten different faces?

I’m pretty sure there’s a term for this but I can’t remember it, and if I stop to look it up then this isn’t a rant. Even people who try to be nonconformist still end up conforming to a different set of standards. I have enough awareness to know I do too, it’s our nature to want to be part of a group. But I feel like the groups I’m supposed to be a part of I don’t fit into either. I’ve always struggled with feeling connected. There’s two people in my life I’m strong friends with, so I know I’m capable of it. I just can’t seem to find it. And yeah, coming in thinking like this isn’t helping me either.

I’m tired. In so many different ways that even a good night’s sleep can’t fix.