I have known that I am different, that I am out there and even thought to be mental, and indeed I am thinking that they are quite right.
When you see someone who is ‘mentally challenged’ ever notice how they don’t seem to pick up on the niceties of life, how subtleness seems to elude them, that they can’t help but blurt out things that are considered improper.
I am one of them.
Consider me mentally challenged.
I recall trying to distract my children when they were young and they wanted to utter words that I considered inappropriate, truthful things that we thought best to keep quiet.
Now the tables have turned and I notice them trying to distract me, or change the subject.
I am not certain if they think my silence will stop the truth from shining through or if they are not ready and willing to hear that which I am saying or are they trying to protect those I am speaking of.
It has been small things, not really important things, but nonetheless, funny to be on the end of being the one who is shushed.
At times I do feel like the precocious child, the one who is curious and trying to put all the pieces together, the one forever asking ‘why’ or ‘how come’, never satisfied with the flimsy replies and the tidy brush offs.
Brushing away reality and replacing it with this overlay of ‘grownup’ speak.
Speak that has little to do with truthful actions and more into painting a perfect picture.
I feel like I am always the one who spots the cat in the matrix, the one puzzle piece that doesn’t fit right.
If there is something out of place or not quite right it immediately falls out of my mouth.
I am happy to fill you in on the wrongfulness, or discovery, but more and more I am finding that exposing this treasure is not what most want.
Me uprooting faults is not a welcome thing.
I recall reading that in India, they were taught to share with you things that were your weakness so you could become better, in the West it seems we help you cover them up.
And in doing so, you remain weak.
We are only as strong as our weakest link.
