An Allegory

Which I made up. Well I think it's an allegory.

Humans and Humanas

Once upon a time, there was a girl. Her name was Humana. All of her life so far, people have told her that she's average; nothing special. Not a revolutionist like her revolutionist mom wanted, not a nihilist like her nihilist dad wanted, not a straight A+ student like her straight A+ student grandmother wanted, not a blond bombshell like her blond bombshell grandfather wanted, and certainly not a drug-addict/prostitute/emo her drug-addict/prostitute/emo brother was. But her brother only wanted her to be a drug-addict/prostitute/emo, to fall to his level, to get sweet revenge by ensnaring another in his own traps. He wasn't sure how that would really help him stop being a drug-addict/prostitute/emo, but nevertheless it would make him feel better.

Humana has got it drilled into her head, just as 'how to be a revolutionist for dummies who aren't revolutionists' books from her revolutionist mom, 'how to be a nihilist for dummies who aren't nihilists' books from her dad, 'how to get straight A+s for dummies who aren't straight A+ students' books from her grandmother, and 'how to be a blond bombshell for dummies who aren't blond bombshells' from her grandfather. From her grandfather she also got drilled into her head countless beauty secrets, permanent blond hair-dye, countless cosmetics and plastic surgeries, and secrets to threaten to expose to blackmail cosmetic and plastic surgeons. From her brother, she got drilled into her head offensive, nasty, hurtful words, uncensored curse words, and uncensored details of life as a prostitute.

Humana only wanted the best for her family. The best for them was the best for her, so she tried in every way, to be not average. Instead of conforming, she was rebelling, and did all she could. Humana tried to be a revolutionist like her revolutionist mom, but no one recognized her efforts, nor called her 'Revolutionist Humana'. Such was custom in her school. There were just too many students named Human or Humana. Actually everyone was named Human or Humana, so the teachers, principals, and students themselves resorted to using a characteristic, or a part of the person to represent the whole.

Humana was just...Humana. Humana's mom was 'Revolutionist Humana', her dad was 'Nihilist Human', her grandmother was 'Straight A+ Humana', her grandfather was 'Blond-bombshell Human', and her brother was 'Drug-addict/prostitute/emo Human'.

Humana tried her best to be all of what her mother, father, grandmother and grandfather was, but in the end, having failed, she was almost sad enough to become 'Drug-addict/prostitute/emo Humana her brother was. Almost.
It just seemed like Humana was too much of one thing and not enough of all the others. Disillusioned, Humana realized that in trying to go against herself; trying to rebel, she was actually conforming.

Humana saw how everyone else, the students in her school, were trying to be something that they weren't, trying to get a definition instead of just being Human or Humana.
It seemed like a paradox. Or was a paradox.  To not be anything but average, and then trying to be not average and therefore being average.

Humana tried her best, but her best wasn't good enough.
At home, Humana's mom was impeached from her group of fellow revolutionists. Revolutionist Humana was devastated. Actually she wasn't revolutionist Humana anymore.  

Humana's dad finally found a moral belief he agreed with, and hesitantly, dropped the 'nihilist' in his name and turned to nothing, he thought.
Humana's grandmother who was retaking university was overwhelmed with the amount of homework. In her days, before paper was invented, everything was spoken. And now with the new technology, she got a facebook account and procrastinated just a teensy bit. To her flabbergastion, she got...an A-, breaking her straight record of A+s
Humana's grandfather, it seemed, was at last experiencing the aging process. Hair began to appear where hair should not appear and from some places hair was disappearing. He was also getting all wrinkly. No-longer-blond-bombshell Human was numb with shock.
Humana saw these things happening to her family, how they were stripped of identity, how arbitrary, how moot it was. Her drug-addict/prostitute/emo brother isn't even what he is anymore. Dead Humans couldn't be nothing but dead.

Her brother told her to wield his words like a double-edged sword. Or better, a gun. The same gun that killed her brother, or rather, that he used to kill himself. Humana wondered how the barrel of the gun tasted in his mouth, the taste of toxic metal reminding him of drugs, the shape of it-long and circular, the bitter taste in his mouth reminding him of prostitution, the shape of it-long and circular, a circle, forever-a long time, the time he'll be dead, the taste of it, toxic metal like blood he drew from his body. She thought of how easy it would be for him to pull the trigger, how he would take the easy way out of being a drug-addict/prostitute/emo.
Humana wished-and she hated it-she could be that extreme. To end her suffering. But it's not suffering, surely. Humana didn't know what she was feeling so she could not define it.

One day- the day she remembers- Humana got out of that rut of thinking.
With the magical secret she used to wield like a silver shield from darkness. With the secret she became undefined, infinite, all-encompassing. It was universal. Everything was universal. Humana just was. She did whatever she wanted. She thought, but really she chose, therefore she was.

From then on, Humana was known as 'Just Humana.'

'Just Humana'