What makes me special?
What makes anything different?
Are we even different?
Or is everything the same?
From my youth, I understood that people always viewed being special as something important. At the same time, people also viewed people who didn’t fit in as weird. Special and weird were sometimes correlated, but self perceptions were always something to think through. Was I ever really someone totally different and unique? Or was I just weird?
As an adult now, I understand my weirdness was just more acceptable than others. I also understand that I was not really as unique as I had thought, but there were just parts of me that were a lot more expressive, and that gave off the impression that I was unique. But I objectively felt the same as everyone else, or so I thought.
I think some of the thoughts I have about life really relate to what I perceive as me being unique or not. There are many times that I see myself being very flawed. There are also times where I see myself as being extremely bold to take certain choices. Today was a day of bold choices, because honestly, I feel too constrained for too long.
I am waiting to express, to feel, and to just be different. Whether others accept me or not, is not as important as myself becoming completely unalike from the people around me. An extreme ideal, but I think it would be a fun challenge.
Perhaps I would elaborate on this more tomorrow, and that would be a better way to rest my tired mind.