To live is to know, and I know I don’t know how to live. The protocols, the norms, too much to remember. Where was I when this “Manual” was being handed to, apparently, everyone? People just seem to “know” it, everything. What to do, what to utter, what to think, where to draw the line, how to respond, when to respond, where to hold back, where to drop the guard, when to yell, when to be silent. People are busy living life, knowing everything, being at the right place at the right time. Making decisions, knowing what to do at a certain stage of their lives. I, on the other hand, am living like a newly blinded man would live on his first day of being blind, every day! There is a learning curve to being normal.I would spend energy being appropriate, getting along with people and life would run smoothly for a few days until my carefully crafted and implemented ritual has run its course, and then I would start to mess up, flinch when offense is required, scowl when I am supposed to smile, nod when I need to decline..It’s all a mess suddenly and I would want to run to caves to avoid the abominable pandemonium  and live with a pet jaguar, hunting hyenas with a Scimitar. I am also always late. Late in being happy, or sad, or indifferent. I am late in deciding if I had enough of something already or need I spend more time with it. If I savour something, is it appropriate to let is show? I usually end up half-heartedly enjoying something because I don’t know if it’s normal to enjoy it or not. I am late in deciding, must I conduce to a situation by being with it or against it.  How do people just know if something is alright? Caught between a burst of laughter and an angry rant, I usually express myself with a timid frown that gives off a supercilious, condescending vibe which does not represent anything close to what I’m feeling. Mostly, during supposed fun times, I look like I’m playing an imaginary violin and counting pernicious apparitions at the same time. I know I shouldn’t care about people, it is just that even those who are really close to me have figured out the optimal way to live and to behave, I am still one step in ice and the other in fire. Perhaps I consciously like to toddle through life and learn where to step and where not to on my own? If one were to plot human life on earth on a paper, it would look like a thick, well tread, nicely curving in and out sort of a line, and then there would be another one beside it, a faded, dashed, dotted, edgy, jaggedy, thick, thin kind of a scribble. Both start at a point and end at another. At least God would notice one immediately.




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