|
At Least I'm Not As Crazy As Ophelia!
Posted by Blab Lover, Jan 9, 2003
Hello, my name is Sabrina and I am a weirdo. I don't rightly remember when I decided to shrug off the confines of normalcy, but here I am in all my odd ball ness. Okay, so more than likely each and every single last one of you people knew that (unless you are someone who is just visiting this site for the first time. May I recommend taking in some daily pics and a few movie reviews while you are doing your surfing?). So why do I bring up this already well known and coincidentally fairly boring topic? Because you normal people do not know how to deal with us screwballs.
It's the truth. For the past couple of weeks I have had the opportunity to collaborate in a group with another odd person like myself and I could easily observe how terribly horrible the normals reacted to us. One of the first things you have to realize about us that have avoir le diable au corps (please forgive the thesaurus there are only so many times you can type crazy before you go well, you know.) is that our minds operate at different levels than you normal people. No, we don't think faster. Sometimes just the opposite happens and we tend to take something and think about it for hours on end. The easiest way to spot someone who's bereft of reason is if you say something very banal and simplistic such as, "I saw a duck today." And the frenzied starts breaking up with laughter so hard he falls out of his chair and down the stairs.
I'll bet right now you're thinking, oh boy, what the hell is wrong with him. Well it's quite simple, for insensate people our neurons in our brains fire a little differently than most normal people. Okay, let's take the duck example. While simply harmless on the outside, it can lead to a serious of problems. Let's say for starters that the odd ball in question had just spent the morning doing research on the viscosity of cough drops (Yes we actually do do things like that. Sad really.). So he was focusing on cough drops, and your mention of the duck reminded him of that commercial where that duck wanders around and continually hawks that insurance company AFLAC. Somehow those two thoughts that are bouncing randomly in his head come together to drudge up the memory of the time when he was six and his younger brother had dared him to shove a whole roll of pennies up his nose, and when he sneezed he pelted his brother with an ounce of copper. Don't ask how that happens, I don’t know how or why, I only know that it does. So basically it does not do you, the normal person, or anyone else any good to try to ask a crackbrained person why they are laughing. Just try to ignore their cackles and finish telling your duck story.
Another common misconception about corybantic people that I want to contravene is the belief that all of us are schizophrenic and talk to little leprechauns that sit on our shoulders. The truth is that only a small percentage of us are actually clinically nuts as the lower sales of Prozac show. Don't get me wrong, just about every unconventional person you meet will be chattering away to what you assume is his the invisible guy he sees perched on his shoulder. Now, we all know that there is no one there, but most of us just talk anyway. Why?
Um, well I'm still trying to figure that out, so get back to me on it. But there is one thing, one wives tale that I would like to wipe off the face of the Earth. It is the belief that you truly are crazy, not if you talk to yourself, but if you respond. Out of curiosity, if you did not respond to yourself then who would? You have already gone to so much trouble in order to form your question into words and voice it aloud, why not just go ahead and answer it. Unless it's one of those rhetorical questions, then please just kick your ass so you never ask those stupid questions ever again. Actually is some one else ever did respond to a question you asked yourself, then I would start seeking serious counseling. Just remember that lighting things on fire is not a good thing, and should only be attempted by professional arsonists.
The final problem that us crazy people have that I would like to address is how introverted we all really are. (If I were to try to address all of the factors that affect us poor screwed up people; it would take about five hundred pages and let's face it. You don't have time to read it and I certainly don't have time to write it.) Okay, so you are more than likely to find a weirdo holed up in his dorm room, doing, well, it depends upon the person. No, we're not planning on taking over the world, blowing it up, or even doing our homework. Basically we hide out in our dorm rooms because we can only stand you normal people for a few hours each week. For some of us, our range of toleration is pretty high and only need a weekend or so to ourselves; but others can only be out in that normal world for a day before they start to slip into a concussion haze. Should you ever come upon an established weird person who is staring up at the sun, a look of confusion and pain etched across his face, as well as two tons of dirt covering his clothes, then simply take him by the hand and lead him back to his room. Trust me, you never want to come up against a weird person who has been stuck in the real world for over a month. We'll just jump into your face scream an unintelligible, "Gosh the Underwear is flying high with the dogs." Then hop (literally) away while staring at his hands.
Although I have seen it happen a few times, I'm not really sure if it has ever happened to me. After the episode the crazy person sort of resets and does not remember his little freakout.
Basically here are my suggestions, 1) Never EVER ask a crazy person what he is thinking. 2) Weird people are not usually talking to little Celtic faeries, it's typically just themselves which is even sadder, and 3) Like a fish out of water a crazy person will eventually snap and try and take out a bus with a rubber band gun. What should you have garnered from this essay, AVOID US NUTBALLS AT ALL COST!
|
