Get Out of my Head

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“We have met the enemy, and he is us…”  Those words came from Walt Kelly in a satirical comic piece meant to highlight how humanity as a whole, needs to look to themselves for cleaning up the environmental disasters we unleashed on ourselves.  Other than coming off as real bad grammar to me, the saying also holds true for internal conflict.

As a kid, I was perpetually bored in school.  Nothing my teachers said, would hold my attention.  Due to my never ending disinterest with the world, I tended to do poorly when the dreaded report cards came.  I hated the tediousness of homework while the tests and quizzes did nothing more than regurgitate more of the same.  It wasn’t until Mrs. Ingrid’s 3rd grade class that someone looked at my low grades from a different angle.  I went through a series of tests meant to challenge my mind which, to be perfectly honest, was probably the most fun I remember having in school.  The most prominent memory I have is having to instruct another person to use a View-Finder, while my back was turned to them, forcing me to perfectly describe how to operate the damned thing.  It’s not as easy as it sounds and certainly not for a 9 year old boy.  Long story short?  I excelled at each test, much to the surprise of my step-father… that asshole.

But I digress…

Turns out I wasn’t dumb or slow; the complete opposite, really.  I had an IQ of 126.  The only reason I remember the number is because the moment Mrs. Ingrid said that, I immediately told her: “2!“.  Took her a while to realize, I inexplicably felt compelled to divide 12 by 6.  To this day, I still don’t know why I did that.

Growing up, all my teachers have always told me that I have an advantage with this sponge of a brain resting in my head; I sure as hell do NOT agree.  I’m locked inside, trying to express the thoughts and images whirling about, through art, music, dance, writing, singing, cooking, blah, blah, blah-freaking-blah.

Flash forward to my adult life where I’ve basically squandered the intelligence I was born with, and now it’s turned inward.  My mind is always racing, always hypothesizing and worst of all, always self-analyzing.  Some days, I can’t imagine a more torturous existence.  I’m always second guessing myself and my reactions to things around me in the pursuit of normalcy.

I find irony in the fact that I’m always wishing I was something special, something unique, and yet here I am, striving to be ordinary JUST to fit in.  It’s my fervent belief that everybody has their own demons and inner-struggles that they must contend with, but when I speak to people, I see how they perceive the world and I would say nearly everybody I run into, worries about the same things.  It’s rare that I meet someone who sees beyond the valid concerns of everyday life, and plays in MY sandbox…

… it gets very lonely here, sometimes…


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