Inside the Mind of an Overly Analytical, Under the Social Radar, Basket Case

How to describe myself... I am extraordinary. If you think that is conceited, then you're wrong. There's conceited, and then there's self aware. I know my follies and I know my strong qualities. And anyways, who says that being extraordinary is a compliment? Because it isn't one... at all. You may be wondering why I think of myself as extraordinary. It is because I am the only person I know who doesn't fit in. Not in the least bit, and when I try, I stick out even more. That's got to mean that I'm special; that I was made different on purpose, to fulfill a purpose. I refuse to accept the theory that I was a mistake, an accident, a weak link in the long chain of human beings.

There are many ways people can be different. They can think differently, they can talk differently, they can look different. But for me, it's none of the above. No, my problem is much more than all that. It's something about my ears, and my feet, the way they connect, combine even, when I listen to music. Every time I hear a song, even a bad one, I can't help but dance and sing and laugh and cry. I feel lightheaded yet I'm aware of everything. I feel like I could fly but I also feel rooted deeply to the earth. I feel profoundly sad and ecstatic and keeping all this in mind, I feel complete. I feel like I don't need a companion, friend, lover, nothing. Not even family. It's a bad thing to say- I know it is- that I don't need a single soul. That I would be all right, even happier to live without any human interaction.

I read that humans aren't supposed to be able to handle solitude, that they'd go nuts if they were all alone. My companion is music, any and all types. Give me heavy metal and I'll rock out, give me cool, mellow jazz and I'll sway to the rhythm, give me- and this is when it gets really embarrassing- music for waltzing, I'll waltz on the spot, by myself. On a bus, metro, grocery store, elevator, waiting room; you name it, I've done it.

I wonder if other people out there have quirks like this, and are just good at hiding it, or is it that they are so motivated by shame or pressure that they can create a whole new persona, one that doesn't even remotely reflect their true self. I wonder, does being myself make me brave- or just lazy?