Dystopia

Have you ever had one of those days that started off perfect, but by the end, you are standing in front of your bedroom wall staring at 2346 extra screw holes in the wall that you never intended to be there? Yeah, well, I share your pain.

Sometimes I think life wouldn’t be so bad in a dystopian society. Sure, there would be oppression and misery, but at least I wouldn’t have to move. I hate moving, almost more than I hate dolls, but that is a different story. If you don’t know, a dystopian society is traditionally a futuristic society built in a world that suppresses something or everything that we would normally hold true and good as human beings. Sounds fantastic, I know. But really, after my traumatic incident moving, I really think it is a step we humans should consider taking.

First, you wouldn’t have to move all your stuff up stairs in the 100+ degree weather, only to spend the next week unpacking it all. You also wouldn’t have to submit your mother to the torturous heat, who tells you every few minutes, “I am an old woman! This place is ridiculous!” Now why wouldn’t you do this? Well, because in a dystopian society, you don’t have possessions. Okay, so this may be an exaggeration, but most of the time, characters only have a few articles of clothing, and their stuff can fit in a backpack. In dystopian societies, the government provides you with a home already furnished, so you don’t have to worry about moving. You’re assigned a place, and you only move when you’re old enough to leave your parents. Additionally, if you have to move anything, the government has someone (or a robot) to do that for you. It’s perfect.

In a dystopian society, you don’t have to hang curtains. In fact, you don’t have to hang anything in a dystopian society because they probably don’t believe in such nonsense. No art, they don’t want you to be creative. That’s just blasphemy in their eyes! You don’t need curtains because the sun is probably blocked out by nuclear winter. I swear I would take that over hanging another curtain. I don’t even know what happened, but I can say that I am not handy. I wish I were, but I’m not. After a frustrated call to my father, who by the way, just laughed, I spent another 45 minutes hanging the curtain rod from hell. I broke the screwdriver, and I literally had plaster falling off the wall. Ah well, nothing some putty won’t fix, hopefully.

Lastly, you don’t have to check your mail. Why? Well, because in a dystopian society, the world is either too decrepit to actually have a mail system, or everything is done electronically. I never thought there would come a day that I couldn’t check my own mail. Truthfully, though, I have absolutely no idea where my mailbox is. You would think it would be easy, but it’s not. It is ridiculous, and I am sure my new property manager’s just love the girl who can’t check her own mail...

Dystopian societies fascinate me. I guess this is a good thing for me (and you someday, maybe) because I spent the past few years writing about one. I wrote this particular post to warm you up to the idea of such a place. My fictitious world is full of oppression and routine, and as much as I loved writing it, I would never want to live in that world. We all have our days, and we all hate doing things we don’t like or aren’t good at. But ultimately, those things are what make life wonderfully chaotic and unexpected. Sometimes it is ridiculous and I question if it can get any worse, but in the end, it is an awfully beautiful life.