And I am more than confused by the things that everyone else understands. This is the story of my life, my thoughts brought to you today by the song “Champagne Supernova” by Oasis. I mean, how difficult is it to understand the lyrics: “Slowly walking down the hall / faster than a cannonball”? It makes perfect sense to me, but apparently, according to music websites, critics don’t understand. And yet I do.
Is this why I’m so attracted to the “difficult” books, and a wide variety at that? Is it because I see beauty in complex places, making it a simple concept for me? There are some books I read– and Proust, which I am reading, is especially guilty of this– where I cannot tell you the plot as the words themselves are so beautiful. I read The Bhagavad Gita in college. It was the first book I read after one of my closest friends died. I cannot tell you what the actual plot was– according to everyone else, there was a plot. But I… the language was so beautiful, the advice it gave so necessary, that I forgot to look at the big picture, existing only for each individual stanza. I was saddened we did not discuss the beauty of the stanzas in class, so confused by the plot the people were. I didn’t give a damn about the plot. That language– it was all I needed.
As Natalie Merchant says in the amazing song “Wonder,” which I consider my song but am sharing it with Toddler-friend as I think she’ll need it, “I’m a challenge / To Your Balance.” I’ve always felt like that. I don’t do what I’m supposed to do. It’s sometimes like I can’t. I don’t fit in in most classes. And now at my job… I have no idea what I’m doing. I feel like I’m constantly making mistakes and yet… I think my way works for me.
When I was applying for jobs, I felt like all the employers could see my differentness, could see that I was not a 9-5, take a seat and do the work! kind of girl. I know I’m not; I’d be deluding myself to say otherwise. I’m me: I have random conversations with strangers on the bus while reading Proust. I don’t limit myself to genre. I get so frustrated, so annoyed, with how society is. I just… I don’t fit in. And while I prefer that I do not… Some days, some days, it’s hard. Especially when you understand something and no one else does. Then there is no one to talk to at midnight when the thoughts and emotions attack me and I, I have no where to turn but in.
