family: set of relations; the descendants of common ancestor

So as I am sitting downstairs with my father, aunts, and cousins a thought blooms in my head: I have no family. I am not related in any way shape or form to anyone is this room. Not even my father. Well maybe some of my father, his craziness runs through my veins but everyone has craziness and insanity in them, most people just hide it. Plus my mom's side is crazy too. But relation doesn't course through my veins with anyone in this world. As I was saying, I have become a person that no one can recognize. My name is longer Alia. She died so long ago, with the memories of her childhood. Only a select few memories remain with me, but only because they make me ME. I don't have a name and this body feels like a prison cell. I love it when I get a cut or a smack my hand hard across something, anything that registers pain. When I have pain, I feel alive; human. When I am just sitting alone with the thoughts that tumble over themselves, I feel more then what people call me. I feel godly, saintly, fairy like, angelic, death: totally and completely out of my element. It makes me wonder, how did Alia come about dying inside me, being lost amongst the thousands of murmurs. Did her childhood slowly kill her, or was I just a force, a pericide sucking the life out of her so that one day I could walk around in her body and live amongst these people. I feel like a thief, robbing her of her life. It's wrong for me to say there aren't people like me, because I can come across someone that spreads a smile to Alia's face, realizing that there a people saying and thinking the same thing that I do to themselves but too scared to voice them. And when I tell them "hey, you are pretty normal, you were just able to break down 'insert name here' and become the soul locked inside you" a smile breaks across their face too. Of being understood and not feeling so insane after all. But those people rarely are around. And that sadness me, how I can still feel so alone in this world. I have reached nirvana and enlightenment. And I am waiting to die, no longer afraid to. Because death now means peace. Peace from feeling like I have stolen a life, a body. Feeling like a prisoner, a foreigner. Peace from the voices hidden in the depths of me. I want to be able to leave civilization and start my own, calling all 'people' who feel a little bit broken and lost. Like a guest in their skin. Where happiness can only be achieved with being alone but with persons like you surrounding you in a respectful distance. Where no one has chatter behind you that feel like bitten words of hate thrown at your back. No matter the language you speak, words can still be covered and coated in hate. Hate that rots the speaker's body and tongue. Where you can breathe the air that has glitter twisting in the breeze that only your opened eyes can see. Where the community is every bit like you, yet so out of tune with you. Where true family is around every corner. Let me bring this to an end, by finishing what I started saying. Both side of my family, I have no one to talk to. No one to understand the thoughts that flitter around in my head, except one cousin that is so out of her element that she fits perfectly into mine. My family teases and judges. They laugh at you, mocking your very existence. My father's side speaks to me in a language I can't understand, which they know that and they can speak the same language I can. Yet they refuse to so they will make me look like an idiot and make me ask "what does that mean?" and all the while making them look like ignorant, arrogant fools. Where they speak my "name" with their Arab accents in their Arabic language in front of me where I just know they are criticizing the way I don't communicate with them. When actually I am not able to, when I physically can't. Oh how they call me and my little sister "khabiyah"- stupid or "haiwan"- animal or "majnoon"- crazy (and how close they are with the last one. They see me and my sister as crazy and insane. Oh how right they are-- in my sister's case :p). My mother's side is full of people with jagged edges, not fitting together at all. They ask you how you're doing, what's new in life only to go blab to the rest of the family. To bond over gossip because it's the only the other kind they can bond over besides, football, beer and poker. It's funny how you can feel like such an outsider, when family is supposed to be the one place where you are supposed to feel like an insider, the VIP.