I had been struggling since a few days to make sense of itall. People killing themselves, choices and consequences, acceptance (or ratherthe lack of it), and of course, human folly. In short, the usual drivel. I gotcaught in a Mobius loop of it all. I talked it over with a friend, and a fewhome truths came out.
Truth one. I am scared. I am scared every day of my life. Ifit goes bad, I’m scared it will go worse. If it goes good, I’m scared it willgo bad. I’m scared I will not be able to cope. That I’m not good enough. Thatone of these days, I’ll snap.
Truth two. I am confused. I revel in grey. I don’t putthings in black and white. I wrote before of hating “straightlines and twisted logic”. I probably wear glasses to see things blurred, not to see themclear (this is metaphorically speaking, not literally!).
Truth three. I am never going to be ‘normal’, in the most ‘normal’use of the world. I am always going to be a bit of a loner. I will always havetrouble finding people who are like me (and consequently, like me. As in, ‘like’the verb.). I may never get what I want of life.
All of which leads to Truth four. Ta-da! (Well, ok.).
When I say I am scared of snapping, I know that I will definitely snap. One day, but it’snot today. It’s never today.
When I say I am not good enough, I know it’s true. It alsocould have been worse. I am lucky to not be homophobic, or xenophobic, or bacillophobic. Or even a sociopath, for that matter.(Oh wait. I am probably that partially. Just kidding.).
When I say I revel in grey, I know it’s something I willstruggle with for years to come. It also means I have a sharper perception ofall other colours too. Specially those in people.
When I say I am not normal, I know it makes it tougher forme to survive. That doesn’t stop me from knowing that I can. Not matter what, no matterhow, I will see it through.
When I say I may not get what I want, I know that it ispretty much true, too (never mind what the birthday and new year wishes say). ButI will always have what I need. Always.
I mentioned once before that I feel like a fraud with my words. Because they are just words, nothing more. But I still cling on to them,because, perhaps, they let me be who I am. And in my own poor, stupid way, I aman all right person (at least kinda).
And if the whole thing read too oxymoronic, it is probablybecause that’s exactly what it is. That’s why they call it life. Otherwise theywould have called it three-cheese-and-pepperoni pizza. (I know you grinned at that.)