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I am neither “normal” or “ordinary”; these words do not,
cannot apply to either you or me. We are special; extraordinary.
Combination of genetics, experience and perception;
we become our own galaxy, in a social universe.
Obey rules? Why not? Lubricates social intercourse.
As for our raison d’etre, motives; source of being:
can you fully understand why, how or when
you do things? I do not. Conformity is deeply engrained;
ruthlessly imposed. Is the real “me”, the real “you”
rough diamond like, obscured in the wreckage?
Waiting to be found, chipped at and polished
by conflict, confrontation, consultation or confusion?
History is shaped, defined in the aftermath;
peppered by fragments of self justification and myth.
Follow your beliefs, gut feeling; take a leap of faith;
plough on regardless? Is it all the same?
Questions! Questions beget questions,
some masquerade as answers.
How quickly their form, content and focus can change.
A function of time, experience and aging? Perchance.
I am neither “normal” or “ordinary” (captive words),
matter and energy bound in flesh.
I walk this world a stranger, no different from the rest.
A dance, masquerade; a plant reaching for the light;
even when all seems dark, I have my own insight.
Impartial? No. Incomplete? Without a doubt.
So, hail stranger (or is it friend), when we meet,
what do we exchange? Our uniqueness,
our common longing to be loved, accepted and valued;
a resilient strain of rebelliousness?
Love me, hate me. Do what you might.
We are connected: strangers in the night