I saw it, the flash in the corner of my eye, but this time when I wheeled around it was not gone, leaving me agape and in wonder.
This time it lingered, because it was not there, not where I was looking.
This time it was in my head.
I did not need to break my neck to see it, but I did. I paused and stared a while and noodled about it.
My first thought: “Wow, that would be easy”
It was normality. It was not special, it was ordinary.
It was not an extreme of any good or bad thing, it was just the right amount of static and active. It represented no kind of frantic scrambling, it looked more like a casual stroll.
It was nice to finally get a gander, I had heard so much about it, usually as a contrast to my own paradigm. I may have been moving too fast to see it before, or too busy breaking my neck.
Now that I have seen it I will watch with genuine interest to see if it is the first step, or the last.
I am learning. I swear I am learning. I am doing it. It is hard, but I am getting it.
I know the consequences of incomplete thought. I get that. Thorough and impassive thought are not what I am good at.
This is not normal.
I guess if I were to take another step, I would have to choose a path.
Do I want to move toward normal? It would be easy, everything is easier when you are normal.
Downside, though, if you are not a freak, then you have to rely on refulgent personality.
To move toward normality would mean that I would have to find and foment aspects in my make-up in which I have not put much importance previous.
I know for a fact that there are people who would be good friends to me if I could get over that one thing; bad fingernails, ear hair, squeaky voice, cold hands. I would not be able to stand up to that sort of inspection.
The only way I get by is by being an interesting freak.
So there I am. At Frost’s fucking fork. I try to be normal, risk failure and obscurity. I try to be a tweaker, and I don’t put as much on the line here, I cannot fail at being a screw-head.
Oh! There is another choice…I could stand and stare in piss-soaked pants at the choice and let grass grow up around my shoes.
