I have been wondering this for quite a long time, and I feel now the thoughts shall burst forth onto the canvas and possibly create a melee of colours which someone may mistake for art. Because I am about to rant about my life and quite possibly yours as well. I am about to call into question everything that we believe in. Because, quite simply I am about to question what being normal is…
I am not normal. I will say that out loud. I will vouch for that statement anywhere. Because I have been exploring the deepest darkest corners of my mind for so long, I know what I am. I know who I am. But today of all the days, as I sat lazing around in my room, staring blankly at the piles of work that I haven’t made a dent in, I realized something is inherently wrong with me. A gene perhaps, misplaced or missed. That would certainly explain quite a lot. As I sat scrolling up and down my list of whatsapp contacts, wondering who to message, it hit me like a bolt of lightning, I am different. I am an anomaly. I am the odd one out.
My thoughts go back a couple of days, then back to a couple of years. I messaged my friends, I messaged my crushes, I messaged my cousins. Those conversations lasted a couple of minutes. Some even lasted days, and then, inevitably there was silence. And in between those silent streaks, I’d take the initiative, not once but many many times to send a simple hi or how are you. I am met with silence, or those stoic one word replies which mean just one thing – they are itching to stop and walk away. It just began the avalanche of questions which eventually culminated in this post: Do I put people off?
NO!!! My automatic defense took over. I am fine. But evidence suggests otherwise. I was a textbook nerd. But then a couple of years ago, I changed. I began to loosen up. I began to have a sense of humor. I stopped being an asshole. But things never brightened. I was still the oddball. I was still the out-of-place dude. Because you can’t change who you are. You can try, but you can’t. I never feel good in a group. I just don’t belong there. I can manage in a small group of intimate people, but otherwise I just stand in the fringes and smile like a stupid idiot. I am not the guy who enjoys long drawn out trips and adventures. I don’t like driving, and fast cars or bikes. I prefer spending my time reading or writing or thinking or watching TV. I don’t need to have high spots in my life to feel worthwhile. I prefer the serenity of routine, I prefer the enjoyment of a good cup of coffee, the savoury feel of chicken on the tongue, the smell of fresh parchment. I don’t care much about my body. I don’t want six pack abs. I don’t want to go to the gym. I don’t care about how I look (well, I do recommend basic cleanliness, but you get my meaning!!). I don’t care about expensive brands. I am comfortable in a cheap jeans and t-shirt. Maybe because of all that, I don’t fit in. Everyone else like all these. I don’t. I don’t fit a certain mold. And people don’t get that.
In simple wrestling analogy ( another area where I differ, pro-wrestling is my life), I am not you typical prototypical poster boy John Cena. I am more of the anti-hero C M Punk. And by your standards, that isn’t normal. Well, by my standards, all of you are insane as well.
The reason I wrote this is because I want anybody else out there like me to know they are not alone. We are all perfect in our own ways. Don’t EVER let others define your life.
Be who you are and kick ass all the way. It’s as simple as that.