The Sixth Letter of Madness

I always wanted to be in the witness protection program. I really just wanted a different identity. I never wanted to be who I was. Ironically enough I don’t even know who that is most of the time. I usually find myself at this point often and when I do I go off into research mode. I go to the numbers, astrology, personality, temperament, and beyond. It is basically anything to help me understand who I am and why I am so damn different than those around me.  Once I found numerology I found something that was able to define myself where in the past I just wandered around like an abstract piece of art. Never able to be defined or even named. I suppose they also classify that as borderline. Whatever it is, it sure is depressing. I’ve always just wanted to feel normal. Not necessarily be normal, just to feel like I was. Like I was a part of humanity. Like I belonged in the club. But honestly, normal things freak me out. Like I feel so damn awkward in normal situations. It is a daily challenge. I believe it is called scopophobia. Morbid fear of being seen or stared at by others. It’s just something I live with. Something I breathe in the air that gives me life. All of that bullshit that goes with it.

The most difficult thing I have done in my adult life is graduate from college. The graduation gown and getting a diploma seems normal enough but terrified me. I am surprised I even showed up. Being normal is just a challenge for me. Or should I say acting normal. As if I really can fool anyone. For the most part I am a likeable person. The only people who don’t like me are the fakers in the world. You know the bad people who know that I cannot be fooled by their stupid make believe world of lies. Or if I don’t like someone. Otherwise, I must say I have a captivating presence. I am smart, friendly, respectable, considerate, kind, honest and funny. There really isn’t too much to not like. Unless of course you work with me and are a shit talker who doesn’t know how to answer the damn phone. Then it’s bound to be a power struggle amongst us and being that I’m sentimental it’s hard to let shit go sometimes.

I painted last night. I painted a guy on a skateboard but he looks more like a penis with arms. I have to fix it. As a perfectionist I find that I am not painting a penis with arms but a man on a board so this is unacceptable. I also painted over my cat on a ship. I am not sure what that is going to be. I also painted a tree with a couple and a cat. Then I blasted out some hardcore awesome abstract looking teal and pink backgrounds. I really don’t want to paint over it. Well there are two of them, as I liked the first one so much I knew I had to paint another one. I like painting. I just am not all that creative with mental images so it’s a bit difficult for me. Like trying to paint a Jack Skellington on a blue background but not seeing one on google image search with a blue background. Just paint Jack. But I can’t. Why not? Because he is not on a blue background. It really is difficult at times being me.


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