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| "Changes"; ............................................................2010 |
I wonder to myself if anyone else out there could feel truly as alien as I feel sometimes. I do strange things that are not typical of the norm. Nothing dangerous or criminal; trivial acts such as an incessant need to wade through water when I see it, walking barefoot in school, smelling freshly cut grass or new books. I hear about people like me, read about these eccentric characters in fictional books, but I've never met someone quite like me.
I'm looked at like my skin is green if I paint on the edge of a dock, spilling shit everywhere. Even people closest to me seem to always poke fun at my habits, which doesn't really bother me, but it does make me think about this state of 'just being me'. Slowly but surely my mind is on a set expansion in my life as I bump into new people, however it's never quite the same. There's always the awkward silence between meeting conversations, driving around and watching nothing, counting the seconds until we just get the hell out of the car. I'm far too social to be silent for long.
Each person is their own individual.
But we don't seem to accept that entirely. It's awkward if someone has habits that are unusual to us.
They must be crazy.
I must be absolutely fucking nuts!
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