I AM ME

I am catching myself in another daydream about losing my mind as I drive home on the freeway. It’s messed up, to have fantasies-almost wishing- for such a terrible illness, isn’t it? And yet… I do more often than most would admit. What does it all mean? As if I might try to “figure it all out” one day. Oh wait, its ironically coming back to me. Something to do with… yes that’s it, normalcy. But right now we are both asking ourselves, “What does that even mean?”

I am history. That’s what it means. For a long time now, I have been the center of my own universe. It blows my mind that as late as the eighteenth century a man in England was tried and put to death for arguing that we were not the center of the universe. I guess that sometimes old beliefs are hard to kill. But I didn’t always believe everything revolved around me. And neither did many of the civilizations that predated their ignorantly closed minded predecessors. It was a younger time for both me, and history.

I am now. And just as scientists rediscovered that the earth revolves around something larger, I begin to draw similar conclusions. So now what? I am still so young, and yet I am already caught up with the present. Do I have more living to do before I realize that’s not entirely true?

I am not alone in these realizations I am sure. This is precisely the point. “It’s all too normal,” is what my Grandma would probably say. “You will “grow out” of all this one of these days.” Perhaps that’s true. Will the future simply “grow out” of the present as well?

I am not sure. Maybe the only ones capable of grasping that answer are those we label insane. Is that the draw to these delusions? Or is it fear of normalcy? In the end I can only be sure of this:

I am me. And that’s all I can be, all I will ever be, all I want to be. So don’t tell me not to be… me.