Welcome to My World, I’d Let You In but I Lost the Key.

How many times has someone looked at you and informed you that you are absolutely nuts? What? You mean that doesn’t happen to everybody? Huh. Well, it has happened to me and I think the person who gave me that little piece of information should have a sweet little message branded on his forehead, that states, “it took one to know one.” Everybody is a little crazy, aren’t they? We all have these odd idiosyncrasies that we call “normal life” that cause everyone else on the outside to be glad they are on the outside. People just love people like me. They take one look and they whisper to each other, “hey, let’s just not go there, okay?”

But it’s cool. I can handle it. What I really want to know is, how crazed does a person have to be before they swing around back into normalcy again? You know the old phrase, “what comes around, goes around?” Maybe it works with the reality impaired as well. It’s really not such a bad thing to be … well, unusual, is it? When you’re different you get a little world all your own to live in, and that’s not a bad thing either, because it keeps you off the streets and into a manageable happy place where you can just be yourself even if you drive everyone else insane.

A few years ago everyone wore a tee shirt that said, “I’m okay, it’s the rest of the world that’s weird.” I believe it, because who is it that’s going to criticize you for the way you think? Certainly not you, that’s for sure. You’re perfectly happy with the way you think and the rest of the world can just lump it. I’m quite often criticized for the way I think too, but that’s okay, because it just means that I’m not the one with the problem.

What I’m trying to say here is that we should all dare to be different. To walk in the footsteps of every other person on the planet is pretty boring stuff, and to think exactly like everyone else is absolutely uninspired. I don’t want to follow the crowd and think, act, talk, and be like everyone else. I want to be like the little duck with a pompon on the side of her head instead of on the top where everybody else with a pompon wears it. If the rest of the world is dedicated only to political correctness, then I should meander from that path a bit and see how the rest of the heathens live.

Why not? Why not step away from the path well-traveled for a while and stop and smell the roses of unique experience? If what I write offends you, then for Heaven’s sake, go read something else! But when I’m wrong I’ll say I’m wrong and when I’m right, I’ll get a face full of pie. So what? People tell me what I should be saying, what I should not be saying, what I should be writing and should not be writing. People act like I’m the biggest idiot on the planet, but they have trouble seeing the splinter in my eye for the beam in their own. I’m sorry but I have forgotten the P.C. words for splinter and beam. You can throw the pie now.

It’s really not that hard to find my little world, it’s the one with the brightest shade of red, the weirdest square rainbows, and grass that grows as many pretty dandelions as it pleases. In my world, nothing is in its proper, “expected” place and unique individuality abounds. Yup, my world is easy to spot amidst all the others that are carbon-copies of each other. It’s the one with a little heart in it, and a steadily burning light in the window. I’ll leave the key under the mat for you just as soon as I remember what I did with it.