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At the moment we are re-watching Wednesday who is currently at Nevermore, the gates of which owe design credit to the “arbeit macht frei” of Auschwitz.
I’ll wager that as these things are measured, I would not count as a “normie”. Some might imagine that my mind is a scatter of machine gun synapses. When in fact it is generally very calm and very tranquil. From time to time the wife gives me a weird look when I answer an obscure question on “University Challenge”.
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What is normal to me, may be a bit weird to others. I am aware of this and have observational “evidence” to back it up. I may appear morbid but am in fact simply nowhere near as dramatic about death and things corporeal as most. I am not easily fazed. I am not a “poor me” attention seeking drama queen.
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The simple question is,
“How can I interact with others whilst being fully myself without freaking them out?”
The ancillary question is,
“Is that even impossible?”
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In the past I have tried and failed at fitting in. Experience suggests that I am just too odd. I am not interested in the same things.
I got well fed up with the need for chameleon…
People find it hard to believe that someone with my {ancient, more than half a Giga second} background is not after something, that I am not pursuing an agenda of sorts. They find the entire concept of abandon to flow an anathema. Because of the way they live, they only see their own motivations reflected in their mis-perceptions of me and my circumstance.
My mind is not full of cunning plans and self-promotion.
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Today we prepared some firewood for when I am incapacitated in autumn. I bought a new splitting axe. Tomorrow I will power wash the guano off from under the swallow nest. The second brood has fledged.
Unless I am actively thinking about scribbling here, my mind is quiet bucolic and at rest.
This “at rest” is extremely hard for normal people to imagine, because they live with a relative cacophony, inside their heads…
Most people would be very bored to live inside my head as it by default is…
