"'Strong' and 'invincible' aren't the same thing", or "Who'd have guessed?"

[nonpurplenitah]

So, in the course of a given week, I usually wear some pretty unconventional things. A three-piece suit, a kilt, spit-shined combat boots (as opposed to dingy and beat-up doots anyone else wears), leather bracers on my forearms, or my cloak. Just now, when I was about to head to the cafeteria for dinner, I reached for my cloak, but stopped. I had this sudden weary urge to be, or at least to be percieved as, normal. I'd call that a moment of weakness, I guess. Normally, I take pride in my willingness to be unconventional, to truly be myself in the face of a boring, pedestrian environment. And I'm admired for it, sometimes by social outcasts (self-inflicted and enforced) and sometimes by those I percieve as a comfortable part of the prevailing herds. But I dunno. I think everyone, including me, forgets thatI'm a guy, just like anyone else. I feel isolated, sometimes. Either ostracised or beyond those I'm surrounded by, sometimes a bit of both. But despite the fact that I don't really know how to be anything but me, the sometime theatrics of it take a toll that I'm only rarely aware of.

I dunno. I guess that's just something I'd never really noticed before. How tired I get of being a public spectacle.

It ain't easy being me. Sure, it looks nice. The fame, the adulation, the chicks, the limos and jets. But sometimes, it just seems so empty. At least that's what my therapist tells me. Well, that and that I hide behind a wall of sarcasm and humor that would stop an inbound ICBM.