Very often, I think I just live in a different world than other people.
Physically, I share space with the physical things of this world, including other people, but my mind feels…isolated. I am pretty sure that no one thinks exactly like I do, and instead of meaning that in a fluffy “Mr. Rodgers” you-are-special-for-just-being-you way, I mean it in a “I’m just crazy,” way.
Today, I commented on a favorite blog only to come back later and see my comment deleted without explanation. It’s happened a few times there. I have no idea if the blog’s owner thinks I’ve been insulting him somehow – I certainly didn’t mean to – but I do know I went way off topic. He posted a cute story with a lesson, and I go off on a (happy) tangent about the usage of certain elements in fiction. I’m pretty sure “way off topic” was the reason for the deletion and that it was nothing personal, but, the fact is that I seem to do that *all the time* and not just to this blogger… (I’ve been talking casually to friends about ideas I have and whatnot only to have them go “Huh?” at me. Yes, even online friends of mine who’d describe themselves as “weird.”)
I wonder if this is common to people who enjoy writing speculative fiction as a hobby, or if it’s a problem that people who are creative in general face (oftentimes, even in talking with other creative people). Then again, I do live with a man who was, through our creative-joking sessions, was largely responsible for the “Princess Poo-Poo” entry, so maybe I’m not as isolated as I think.
We saw the film “Paranorman” the other evening. We’re both grown-ups who like “kid’s movies,” especially ones with beautiful animation. I found the protagonist particularly relatable… he’s a kid who can see ghosts and everyone in his town treats him as a freak for it (except his buddy, who’s teased for being fat). In the end, it is one of those many films with a fantasy-flavor and an important message that I know is going to get largely ignored just because I grew up on film after film where “respecting difference” was the main message and the protagonists were “freaks” and never enjoyed the respect or even reprieve of my peers who saw the same films. Sometimes, I think fiction can tell great truths, but sometimes, I don’t think those truths stick.
In any case, I related to the protagonist because, even though I do not see spirits or anything (it seems, as emotionally-nutty as I am, my senses are firmly trapped in material reality), I thought to how the kid’s perceptions made him live in an entirely different world than the rest of the people around him. A lot of people think that they’re “different” without knowing how popular and basically normal they are. I know I wasn’t as bullied growing up as a lot of people and that I have it better than a lot of people. I know I’m saner than some unfortunates out there who have worse conditions than I am. I still feel like I’m in a different world, though. The manic-style thoughts, the running off on tangents, thinking of things that no one apparently thinks of and / or thinks are strange…Living in that all the time…
Sure, my “weirdness” gives me the ability to think up stories about a man trying to live “life as a litch” after waking up from ten years gone, a person living happily in a world where everyone has vanished, or a selectively cannibalistic culture of otherworld vulture-people, but my mind is something that apparently offends people if I don’t keep it in check or tell it to shut up every once in a while.
World, I’m sorry I’m not like you, but in the end, I’m not sure I want to be. I’ll probably just be quieter from now on. That seems to be my reaction… just getting quieter and quieter, choosing to largely speak in fiction.