I'm normal => I'm made of plastic. Yeah, I know.

I can't count the number of times I've been gripped by an idea or a feeling (or maybe sensation is a better word, it hardly gets enough time to develop into a feeling, i.e. I can't put a label to it) that I felt I should put down somewhere, that I should document. You know, just like that Facebook application that allows you to say 'Ritwik is feeling _________' (by the way, I'm feeling like I have irrevocably tangled innards right now....I'm having to type so many of these words again, and again, ouch). So anyway, I can't classify that sensation. The nearest I can come to talking about it is by simply saying what thoughts are running through my head. Just the other day, I had one of these moments of clarity when I said to a friend that I'm so sick of pacing the house and reading terrible (turrrrible, turrrible...as Charles Barkley would have said) and pessimistic news items on CNN.com, that I could do with some company. The only catch was that I would've bitten the head off of anybody who approached me at that point of time because I was in such a foul mood.

The logical and expedient answer to that rant was a very measured "Uh, I think you should just go to bed." And I know that it almost always works. It took me a while to find that out, but I can't put myself to sleep simply by shutting off my brain and letting it float away, far from the shores of madness nation. And, I'm remarkably drug-free (maybe too much for my own good) so sleeping aids aren't my prescription. I just let myself get so tired that I can't lift an eyelid (or hit a key, whichever happens later..hehe) and then I'm good to go.

There used to be a time, and a place, and a bunch of people that I knew, who didn't think that being weird was much of a disadvantage, socially. Perceptions of the world, each crazier than the other, were tossed around like joints in a dope club. We all relished to some extent, the variety of viewpoints and had some sort of pride in how tangential our views were, and yet how much sense they made.

But coming out of that cocoon was in almost all ways, a very bruising experience because in the normal scheme of things, I ended up dealing with a disproportionately large number of people who hadn't a clue that such errant minds existed in such self-congratulatory harmony with each other. In this new world, weirdness or simply, being different was not looked at very kindly. Call it fear of the unknown or call it insularity, there was something that drove people nuts when they saw somebody behave differently from their own rules of normal behaviour.

Or let's call them the advertised rules of normal behaviour. I haven't seen anybody, that I know well enough, to be anywhere close to what they consider normal. And really, the only people I think are normal are probably the ones I don't know well enough. So these people are no more deviants than I am, which is fine with me (I'm called a crank collector by some folks, but that's for another post), but what amuses me most is that they are quite desperate to conceal their quirkiness even when the person in front of them is a guy like me (who once never hid his weirdness, but I've mellowed...or become more manipulative, whatever you want to call it). I mean, how weird can people be? If you ask me, I'll always say, not weird enough. But, what I see is something of a denial in action, and the amount of high ground claimed over these issues is nothing but the world's largest garbage pile with stink included.

It's not unusual to find people being driven into a corner (that's another one of my weaknesses, sorry) and then breaking down for that instant and letting me peek into the little crack on the surface of their polished surfaces at the ghosts in the machine. It's like watching one of those videos in which dogs sneeze, because it comes out all of a sudden and it's very funny. However, the flip side to the entertainment is that (and that's why I don't try this with many people any more) they'll get all worked about it and go on the defensive. See if you can spot the phrase "That's just the way I am" floating around in one of these psychological moments (I still remember Poirot very fondly...sigh).

Personally, I've always enjoyed observing people, what they say, what they do, how they react to situations and especially, how they change under pressure of emotional stress or intense scrutiny. I'll admit that I'm not good at all at predicting outcomes in situations I'm personally involved with, but I've seen a lot of different emotions from people that I'd have never guessed existed inside them. I've come to enjoy the quirks of people and I absolutely despise the vain attempts at projection of normalcy. To some extent, you may fault me for being a rabble-rouser and a trouble-seeker, but I'm always thrilled by the prospects of making new discoveries about folks in such a scenario.

I grew up with the deeply impressed notion that being different is not only the key to your identity, but also inevitable. I know it's equally true that some quirks are not for public consumption, and are better kept locked up, to be enjoyed sparingly. Still truer is the advice that many people have given me: it is sometimes a disadvantage to be too open, especially if you're very trusting and take the plunge first. That move doesn't work with everyone, and it leaves you vulnerable to manipulation. But I suppose that's a choice that each of us makes. I'm not alone in the way I think, and I get along very well with people who share my respect for the infinite possibilities of discovery in human nature, however, in a finite life, like a game of poker, one must learn to make the most of even a bad hand :D