The worst things to solve are the ones you see every day. You grow into them, they become so ordinary that they stop being a problem. Just background.
Around you are people who have locked themselves in cycles. Same rooms, same routes, same thoughts they inherited from their parents and spread like viral memes through their bodies. Then someone comes along with something different. Dresses differently, speaks differently, lives differently. And there it is—the comments. Judging. Contempt. Condemnation.
You'd think that if you see something in another person that you feel yourself, that would be a bond. But it's the opposite. When comfort meets change, the comfortable one will fight with teeth and nails. Why wouldn't they? When someone steps out of the zone where you've settled, it means one thing: it's possible. And that's terrifying. It means the comfort you live in isn't fate. It's a choice. Your choice. And choices can change.
Envying is easier than moving. Judging is cheaper than transforming. When you call someone an idiot because they live differently, at least you seem like you know how to live right. That you have sense and morality. While they're just a loser in some pointless attempt.
But that's not true. The other person doesn't have to be right. But at least they tried. At least they weren't passive in it.
Comfort is a kind of prison you call home. And there's one iron law in it: if you want to stay, you have to attack those who escape. Because their escape is proof that you could too. And that can't happen to you. It has to remain as a possibility that doesn't exist. Abstract. Fantasy.
So you judge instead. And in that judgment, all the anxiety disappears—the anxiety that would have to arise if you both faced the truth: that what you live in are just habits. Habits that can change. If you let yourself.
© DarkMirax