The Misfit of Me

Since I was young, I knew that I am different. In a good way, that is. But that doesn’t help since I felt that it was lonely there. I was to young to understand any of this. Well, even if I were older I still would not understand it. The lonely part, that is.

I didn’t — and still don’t — mind of being different. I didn’t — and still don’t — want to change. That does not mean I am avoiding people and friends who change so that they can fit with the environment. Being young is tough. Added with pressure, you’ll get serious damage. Some of my younger friends fell into the trap of drugs and alcoholism. Thank God, I did not. I was lucky that I didn’t crack. It’s not that I hate them, I just don’t see the need for them and I am not interested. As simple as that. I would just hang around with all kinds of friends and just be me. I am glad most of my friends understood my stance and did not try to convince me. Perhaps I got guardian angels.

To this day, I still think that I am different. Weird, maybe? Or a misfit to be exact. I am me.

update: and here is my anthem …