Speciation refers to the formation of a new species from a pre-existing species. A species, in turn, refers to a group of organisms that look similar and are able to interbreed to produce fertile offspring. I am an extinct species. The only of my kind, and it looks like I shall stay forever alone, because hey, I can’t breed with myself, can I? Sympatric speciation gives rise to speciation by reproductive isolation barriers : producing infertile offspring, behaviour specific courtship rituals, breeding at different times (temporal) and mechanical isolation or physical incompatibility. I blame these barriers (and some personal ones attributed to my incredibly emo (temporary) temperament) for my present situation.
Let’s start with breeding at different times: which is not to be taken literally. Of the people in my life, many are in phases beyond that of my own. The most basic example being the lucky ones that have hit a superior, legal age and can revel in Origin, Cube etc, to be more specific. That’s not to say I’ve not had my fair share of frolic; hardly so. Yet the quintessential plane that separates me from these specimens is the inherent freedom university and age has brought them. So, should I seek to once again fall for some young chap at university, I should be wise to think twice – as I can hardly frequent Origin every second night. They mate whenever, wherever and however they like. I, sadly, am presently limited by my green identity book and my yellow matric time table … of which the latter shall disappear in a week (HELL YES).
Next comes infertile offspring : the formation of useless relationships that bare no fruits of use to my life. Such liaisons tend not to be productive – fair weather friends, parasites that made me write nice page for their matric diary but didn’t bother to make one for me and people that I only speak to when I’m really bored… or temporary friends : the ones that you can’t quite figure out. The ones that you don’t speak to for weeks, but when you do speak it’s like you’re best friends forever – those kind of people. It’s through this troublesome barrier that I’m left questioning the very existence of relationships that will yield love and support… thereby leading to personal isolation.
Thirdly, we have species specific mating rituals. I honestly don’t understand most people. The signs, signals, hints people profess to have dropped tend to fly over my head like the plane that hit the twin towers in 2001. However, I’m completely immune to the language of ‘hint’… except those I seem to fabricate in my mind. For example, the obvious hint : “I think you’re really pretty.” I’m indifferent. The statement : “Hey heyyyy” = OMG THERE ARE SO MANY YS I THINK HE LOVES ME. This misinterpretation of signals, incongruity of communication and lapses of judgement have resulted in much forever alone-ness.
Lastly, mechanical isolation – this in the animal kingdom refers to species being physically unsuited for coitus. Me? I think my personal mechanical isolation could be how I make the wrong choices in people, sometimes; choosing people that I may be totally incompatible with, people my friends think are mingers … or generally not nice people that I try really hard to be friends with but end up disappointing myself.
To wrap up, I’d like to mention how every second thing makes me sad these days. True story.
*insert sad music here*
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