Signatures later

I understand that most of my emotional piers have passed away and that makes some of my views on life somewhat controversial. This is nothing new to me. I had an extremely controversial childhood, never fitting in anywhere. I had come to realize that I am different. I am the lion in the flock of cave sheep.

(Cave sheep: def. Cave sheep are family of the regular sheep but habituates caves due to their sensitivity to light. Their main source of sustenance is deposits of minerals on the walls of the cave. By licking the walls of the cave they not only acquire nutrition but expand their habitat. Being the matriarch the mothersheep is attached to the rest of the colony by umbilical type cords through which it is believed they communicate. The cave sheep is the main source of synthetic wool. The wool is processed from their excrement.)

As a child I had an extremely large head. People struggling with depth perception, that is people with just one eye, sometimes mistook me as a blimp when seen from afar. It was not only on the cute scale where the bulbous orb caused some interesting situations. My father once dropped me one my head, unintentionally. He claimed that the top-heavy nature of my build was not ideal for the traditional baby holding grips. For instance I could not be carried in the incline ramp hold or the popular back shot hold. According to my father I stopped breathing after he dropped me on my head, which explains my sporadic stints of projectile vomiting. Life started for me as a period in which my shortcomings came to the fore.

The point I am trying to make is that I, in all honesty, am not the world’s most attractive man. I have this balding head and hairy arms. I have never been conventional and probably never will be. I adapted or died. I am writing this so it should be safe to assume I adapted. I invented the word adaption.

I came to realize that being unconventional holds its advantages. My head casts a very handy shadow and mosquitoes can’t get to my skin due to the hair. There are many other things but I won’t discuss them all. Apart from the numerous physical advantages the most important thing about being me is the emotional mountain range I have become. I am very stable, you could say I am a place where you could leave your horses.

When making a point us great writers always evoke memories of great historical figures. These are people who made an impact, people who stood up for what they believed in. Several come to mind, Shakespeare, Dickens and Joost just to name a few.

I have found that many a historical figure was not very attractive, physically. The perfect example of this is Roosevelt. Old Frankie always made a huge impression with the ladies wherever he wheeled. Some say he never stood up for what he believed in but I say he never stood up because he couldn’t. The man was by all accounts an unlikely candidate to become prime minister of England and he didn’t. He was up against incredible odds and failed. He then became the president of the US of A.

What this piece is all about is that the reader should realize that all of us have something special. You might be unattractive but you most likely are hugely talented when it comes to welding, or you might be beautiful and regularly converse with plankton. There are people who appear to have it all, they might be smart and beautiful and fast and that might make you jealous. These people have their shortcomings as well.

I once knew a girl who on paper was amazing, she also looked good on floors. The problem with her was that she knew this which then made her obnoxious and anally retentive. She reminds me of the time I spent in Prague as a drill instructor, not the military kind but the diy kind, my ears hurt all the time. My opinion is that you are most likely the things you don’t know you are.

I leave you with this phrase: As dit pap reen skep, as dit kak reen koes.