As the wheels of life turn, he, once again, finds himself in the same ditch that he’d been in not so long ago. Every so often the same thoughts come flooding into his feeble mind, bashing against the walls of his heart, bruising the very essence that is his self.
Where? Where do I belong?
He ponders about those that are perpetually lost in thought. The ones with, you could say, a different mind. The few that are not of this world, where the eyes perceive the world differently. More different that we would ever know. Their eyes wander as they conceptualize everything that is of this world, as if everything, the colors, the sounds and the touch that makes the world as it is is somewhat mystical in a sense that the ‘normals’ could never experience.
He sometimes fantasizes about being one of them because he often finds himself caught in the middle of being lost and being in touch with the rest of the world. He is able to assimilate, yet, not well enough for them to accept him for who he really is and more often than not, he tries his best to do as they do, be as they are yet the tides of fate are often not in his favor.
He feels as if a constant fury of perpetual misunderstanding clouds his life and he realizes that this is where the deeply rooted loneliness stems from. He faces much difficulty connecting to people on a level where most others are able to. To be able to socialize without constraint and fear.
It is not a nice place to be in, being caught in the middle of being completely ‘lost’ and being ‘normal’. The brilliance of the mind that comes with all the other wonders of being ‘lost’ elude him as he finds himself a conflicted mix of barely adequate social skills and thoughts that do not belong anywhere albeit still edging towards the ‘normal’ side of the spectrum.
As such, he is cursed. Cursed with a life of perpetual disconnect. A seething brew of emotions and thoughts that garner no empathy from his fellow human beings.
It is this loneliness stewing inside of him that kills, slowly.
The world is what your mind perceives it to be and life is as your mind creates, as it sees fit to. The neuro connections that create a person to be who he or she is defines how the world is for the individual. Experiences, memories, thoughts and emotions are then appropriated accordingly.
He wonders if he would not be drowning in conflict if he were ‘reformed’ at an early age, to be conditioned to fit in and be as the ‘normal’ people are and that maybe he just might be able to be like them. To live and breath as a normal and have the same thoughts, emotions and impulses as they do. Yet, more often, he finds himself caught in a fantasy of falling off the edge and sinking into the state of being ‘lost’. Hopes of how beautiful the world may yet be excite him, yet does not give him enough hope to remove himself from the cloak of depression that weighs down on him even if only because he is different, and feels the full extent of being so.
Growing up and watching the media portrayal of life on an everyday basis with a balance of work, relationship and dramatic occurrences, he often relates to the characters that are every so often misunderstood and punished for actions, words and intent that they claim no ownership of. He often wonders why they don’t just walk away. He used to wonder why they don’t try to explain, but life has taught him that some are different enough to never be completely understood although the ‘normal’ bits of what makes them who they are will be held under close scrutiny and judgement meted.
But life goes on, as they say. A series of misunderstandings and unjust association of blame haunt him at every turn. He is weary but finds no solace. One community to another, they exhibit the same behavior. Once they find a crack in your armor, the things that make you who you are, the difference that they lack the capacity and empathy to fully understand, they single you out and they ostracize you.
He will never be a part of them. Any of them, for that matter. A reject of the heavens and the underworld alike, he wanders the earth, stumbling at each step with no one but himself to offer the comfort much needed.
Misconstrued, he is. Clearly, but not so clearly, no, not in the eyes of the world, the sane, and the insane.