I’d be lying if I didn’t admit first off that I am combative in nature.
But I feel I must be at times. It is so stifling to sit in a room and pretend to not notice things that everyone else doesn’t notice at times and people really don’t get that. It took me a long time to come to grips with who I am. A good long time and I think I probably handled it with more finesse than some of my siblings did and more willingness to try to be apart of regular society.
I often remark that I have Lisa Simpson Syndrome. A meddlesome made up disease of my own creation that requires me to be a busy body and makes me incapable of accepting that everyone did not enter this world to know more, or even the basics of it. Much of life is dictated from a television screen and a music making machine and the standards are often aimed at what we are told to shoot for.
Those of us who miss the hypnosis of that beat are often the alienated. We are not all geniuses. I’m only slightly above average intelligence I’m sure. Where I am impressive some places I c ould probably be swooped into the dismissive category of “average” in others. But I love to be extraordinary. Every day of my life I live for it. The very thought of being wonderful. My mind plays endless fantasies of my greatness. That I shall depart the earth with my name known or with a work so beloved that people will wish they had known me even though if they had met me they’d probably not have liked me very much.
O but I’m not very unlikable for the most part. I know this. As much as I am combative, opinionated, snarky, sometimes snobby and emphatic about whatever I have made my mind up about I am loving, courageous, kind and sympathetic in nature as well. I lack the compassion to empathize at times only because I don’t want people to suffer the things I have so I often brashly tell them the way to get through the obstacle without really trying to understand how they feel. But o how I want for them to find that other side.
In short I am a good person. But I am a desperately flawed, and lonely person. I have often reflected on my loneliness. My inability to find a suitable mate and the rare times when I can find friends who can tolerate my desires and ambitions. I have often though myself alien except in the rare instances when I could find a kindred spirit. Because everyone isn’t intellectually driven no matter how hard I dream that they are.
No matter how much I want that. This is a lonely life and one that I didn’t willingly choose, it honestly chose me.
And I have followed it though it hasn’t produced me a great job or a great husband or any of the things that are really valued in life. It has only brought me misery with the endless amount of knowledge I have obtained.
I’m sure boys will always find me as unlikable as ever because it is the sweet and mild mannered who win the day and not the brash and the fearless of the mouth when it comes to women. Or the brainiest either. That’s not what they’ve been programmed to love. But it is what I am. It is what I have always been.
I’m sure women will always find me unbearable to relate to and that others will always respect a hell of a lot more from me than they will ever expect from anyone else. And I am sure I will always torture myself for being as socially inept as I am intellectually capable.
I am sure that this person who I am will always be offputting and undesirable, but who the hell else shall I be? Truth be told I can’t think of a better person in the world.