Monachopsis (mawn-a-Khop-sis): n. the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to your surroundings as a seal on a beach—lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you'd be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.
Walking down the street, through school being around groups of people, even sitting at home surfing the web or reading, I used to hear of these emotions, these feelings everyone endures, well everyone except me that is. Due to my, condition, I've never really connected with anyone, I'm incapable of truly understanding these ethereal, conscious experiences that they all seem to convey. Hearing of the experiences of others, I often ponder if emotions are actually a deception created long ago that people pretend to be true as to not be viewed as outsiders, similar to the story The Emperor's New Clothes. I've researched, interrogating others about these strange occurrences, often receiving relations to colors. Emotions must be the makeup of colors in this world, for mine is nothing but black, white, and gray; none of these raging reds fueled by arguments and hateful rants, violent oranges of envy stricken "friends", luscious pinks and magentas of love-at first-sight, one night stands, and short relationships, miraculous violets and purples of finding where you belong, coming home to your family after a long day, being able to rely on someone in your moment of need, creating a relationship that with last a lifetime be it romantic or platonic, or even the bright, in-your-face yellow of a bully, being robbed, taking a test you know you are gonna fail, meeting someone new, or even just trying out a new look. But most of all, I hear of two colors: I hear of the immense conglomeration of blues, the pain of being left out, the suffering of being forced into silence, the hungering for more in your bones, the shock of reality being slammed in your face; from the pale blue of simply dropping your pencil, to the all-consuming, euphoric blues of losing the thing that mattered to you most, of failing yourself and everyone who believed in you, of never seeing your child grow up. However, with all those tales of blue, have always come the remarkable shades of green: Seeing your child for the first time, reuniting with old friends, reminiscing about "The Good Ol' Days", the first flowers of Spring, the fresh smell of rain after a long drought, soldiers coming home, introducing that special someone to your family, the comforting scent of a home-cooked meal, being there for someone when they needed you the most. I've come to realize those are my favorite narratives: the accounts of blue with memoirs of green. If I could only see these spectacles, if even for a minute, oh how I would view the world, breathing in the rainbows of emotions, of the very essence that drives mankind. If only they belonged to me, too. If only.
Author's Note: I discovered Monachopsis on https://www.goodnet.org/articles/10-human-emotions-you-didnt-know-had-names the word was not created by me, I found it the day I typed this up.
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Emotions: The Colors of the World
General FictionIn a world full of colorful emotions, there's one person who sees only black, white, and gray. Being born without the ability to experience emotions creates a lack of understanding not only of the world and its inhabitants, but also of yourself. E...
