The person that was known as Nekana; the one whose stories have been told thus far was by no means an unique individual. The brunette was at most just self-conscious and the words themselves held a certain double meaning, Nekana wasn't sure nor could she confirm if there were people such as her, ones with similar mindsets but the girl was confident that there must be some. Whether they realised their surroundings and held a certain scorn or respect for it, such was what Nekana would claim she'd search for in those in-sync with the brunette.
The beauty in such was that it was but a blunt weapon. Normally, after realizing one would just keep their opinions to themselves and it'll by and through time just linger. In itself, the realization held no significance just a common reason to think that she or he were different in a few aspects. An excuse in this merciful, unforgiving, exciting and all so bland planet. People, due to hormones or whatever scientific discovery of the past few decades, centuries or maybe unsuspecting millenniums had come to would gradually come to desires of the different. Mostly dedicated to them selves of course. The shallow depths of society that Nekana had known were but a minor source of the 'individuality' she seeked,
Nekana was aware. Aware of the fact that among the billions of people in existence she wanted to be special among them. Although she was already fortunate enough, lucky: through and through; her greed still remained wild and untamed. Could it be explained with the science education held pride in? She didn't know and had yet to seek out the answer. Perhaps it wasn't the girl at all just a common occurrence in the brain and it was not intelligence. The feeling remained, but not explained. The weapon was not all that dangerous in itself but if a person with power were to wield it, several incidences may be caused. People who held political power and if not already contaminated with the "need" of money perhaps something could've changed.
There were of course cases like those but it still wasn't enough. Not much could be written or said but a vague image could be conjured. Questions that remained unasked and answers untold; it was cliche really, Nekana couldn't seem to leave the mysteries alone however. She was an individual that was no different from an ordinary human and maybe her thinking differed even if only slightly. She contemplates with topics that were far to out of her league and gives action less opinions. The epitome of cowardice as the brunette defined. A child that saw no less than the tip of the iceberg. And it was alright, because if a commotion were to be caused the positives and negatives of the result expected might be lesser than what she hoped for.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
The attention and damns that were given would be expectedLy low as of the present, people paid attention to the more approachable pictures, the easier puzzles. Simply put, it was not in any way their business; nor Nekana's. The feel of seperiority was irresistible and Nekana knew the taste of it.
She was a prideful one but held endless submission to the invietable. She hated, hated, hated the feeling of being left out but did nothing to cover the bald spot. All bark no bite, all thoughts and no action. It was Nekana's specialty, her stereotypical mindset that held no uniqueness. So full of ordinary desires but. Yet. In a way, the girl was different because she knew. Full of loopholes, the theory of the songs of the bored, and unsatisfied. Social media had announced such feelings and many others in agreement to contemplations alike with Nekana's. It was the new 'special' the 'mindset' that had set them apart from others like they always wanted. And it was the new stereotype that they all had wished to be unbound from. The shackled tightened as they pulled, sharing sometimes was not caring for it'd make things worse at times. No conclusion was there, unlike an essay with their introductions, main bodies and whatnot. Just random pop ups in our self proclaimed consciousness. A type of intelligence the cause.
They, we, I, just what is it wanted in the end.
Endless was the cycle, as it made close to no yet so much sense.