Perhaps restarting this blog isn't the only thing I should do in my life. I think what I need is a makeover; of my body, sense of self, and what the hell, maybe even sense of style. I do have a tendency of wearing some of the same outfits week in and week out. But hey, I'm trying.
If one word could describe me right now, or since having graduated from High School, is confused. I've never really felt this way before. The years are flying by even faster than usual compared to those when I was just a kid practically living in two houses at once. I seem to being losing myself to my isolation and loneliness. That's one think I'm baffling over. As much as I lack any true human contact, why is it that I cringe when meeting new people or am uncomfortable just being around those who can be called my 'friends'? Loneliness is a disease I have caught and despise; give my all to force it out. Yet I embrace it to the fullest. And enjoy it. I don't even have a clear view of who I am anymore or what I want. My life has become a jumbled mess of pieces just waiting to be put together in the proper order. Yet with each hopeful moment they'll snap into place, it shatters and more appear. There's no box to look at to give me a clue. All I have to work with is experience. Trial and error. Discovery.
Once when I was really young, I had this bizarre notion that I was an alien from another planet, adopted by Earthling parents. I'm not sure why I thought that for being just a kid. But I went on to write a story about how it happened. I was sent off in a pod from my home world, ala Superman, by my true mother and father. Somehow the pod made it's way to Earth and (of all places now that I think about it) Tucson, Arizona. I'm not sure how the rest went. When I told my mom this story late one night, in my imagination, it was all real. It made so much sense to me and I understood why I felt so different. Halfway through reading it aloud, I walked back to my bed saying, "I need some time alone," as tears filled my eyes. I cried hard that night. Probably one of the few times I ever broke down. Looking back on it I always thought believing I was an extraterrestrial was a silly idea that a sissy boy would make up just to make himself feel special. Today though, right now as I write this, I'm beginning to reconsider that story, it's validity and what it means to me. It seems I've never truly fit in wherever I go. Am I really as alien as I think I am?
Calling all occupants of interplanetary craft, can you hear me?
Over and out.
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