(no subject)
I've never known a time when I wasn't weird. Presumably there was one, when I was just another baby. Maybe even just another kid, but it never made it past there. Now I'm old, and I'm still weird. Not eccentric; I don't have the money to be called that. I'm not artistic; I have created nothing of note. Not genius, or even ecclectic. Just weird, and occasionally crazy. I watch the people around me interact with a world I don't understand, in ways that baffle me, and I know that when they see me, they see the same thing. Only I have no groups to hide in. It's just me and the weird watching the world.
Which is comfortable for me. Don't get me wrong, I like being weird. I accepted at a very young age my apparent weirdness, and even if there was to relate to more people I don't know if I would do it. Life on the fringe has always felt comfortable, and now comfort means a lot to me. It's so much better than the alternative.
But I see the impact of the weirdness in people. The dodgy eyes, as they try to navigate how they should react to me. The forced smiles. Grudging hugs from old friends who are no longer comfortable with this degree of weird in their life.
I don't mind. Because I know, for all that I have failed to achieve, the lack of impact I have had on the world and the lives around me, for the family I didn't have and the jobs I couldn't do, the money I didn't make, the house I don't own, the car I don't drive, and the projects, music and dreams that never left my head to ever be spoken or written, we all achieved the same thing. When we are gone, we are all the same. There are no wierdoes in the ground, and no matter where they bury you, the dead never look down on each other.
Which is comfortable for me. Don't get me wrong, I like being weird. I accepted at a very young age my apparent weirdness, and even if there was to relate to more people I don't know if I would do it. Life on the fringe has always felt comfortable, and now comfort means a lot to me. It's so much better than the alternative.
But I see the impact of the weirdness in people. The dodgy eyes, as they try to navigate how they should react to me. The forced smiles. Grudging hugs from old friends who are no longer comfortable with this degree of weird in their life.
I don't mind. Because I know, for all that I have failed to achieve, the lack of impact I have had on the world and the lives around me, for the family I didn't have and the jobs I couldn't do, the money I didn't make, the house I don't own, the car I don't drive, and the projects, music and dreams that never left my head to ever be spoken or written, we all achieved the same thing. When we are gone, we are all the same. There are no wierdoes in the ground, and no matter where they bury you, the dead never look down on each other.