I was chatting with Liz yesterday via email, talking about our blogs and things in general. Conversation got around to people who cause problems for others via blogs. We talked about an issue she almost had, and the issue that David at problogger.net had. I wrote:
there’s something I’ve come to know about people over the years, from my observations and ‘studies’. Most people are screwed up. ‘Normal people’ are certainly not ‘normal’, and yet by the very definition of normal – that which most people are – it’s obvious that a normal group of people are seriously screwed up.
Most people have issues, which they are usually completely unaware of, but which adversely affects their behaviour.
I’ve learned to look out for those ‘normal’ people and stay away from them. I have few close friends, but those I do are just like me – completely abnormal, and I love it.
We then exchanged URLs showing our views about people, finding out that both of us had written of parties: mine and hers.
It’s true that most of my friends are ‘abnormal’. They generally involve themselves in deep and meaningful discussions about life, the universe and everything. They challenge my thinking, expand my horizons, and make me feel valued. These are abnormal people.
‘Normal’ people are those who don’t like exploring their thoughts or their lives. They are those who have secrets, who are ashamed or insecure about themselves and their life, and they would just rather not share it. They think that no one is interested, or they would experience rejection or humiliation if anyone found out. And so they simply avoid talking about themselves in any great detail. They would rather talk about inane things that have absolute no meaning.
I really can’t get close to people like that. Sure, I’ll engage in light pleasantries with them when the situation demands it, but deep down (well, not really that deep) I’ll know that they don’t want to share. They might want a friendship or relationship of some kind, but they don’t know how to get it. They are afraid of showing who they really are.
My friends are abnormal. They’re the people that are secure in themselves and their life that they don’t particularly care what others think about them. They will talk about those things that are important to them, including their emotions and beliefs. They will let someone get close to them by being free and open with who they really are.
How can you know someone unless you let yourself be known first?
You can’t. And yet those that are free and open with who they are and what their thoughts are, are those who are abnormal in this society where openness seems to be frowned upon; where shallow thinking and shallow conversations are ‘normal’.
If normal means being shallow, then I’m so very happy to be abnormal. Unusual. Rare. A freak. Even an alien, which Liz talked about. I’ve also used the same reference, that sometimes I think I’m an alien, living in a human body, and one day I’ll just ‘burst out of my skin’.
(Wow. In my attempt at finding that picture, I also found this article about an invention made in 1889, to combat the apparent threat of alien feotuses bursting out of chests. It seems that the inventor read a science fiction story, thinking it was a report of actual events, and his fear and paranoia drove him to invent an ‘alien chest bursting prevention device’. Hahahaha. The things you stumble upon when you do Google searches…)
Anyway, whether I’m an alien or just abnormal, I’ll continue to look for other people like me. I’m happier being abnormal than I am being normal, especially since ‘normal’ is so damned boring.
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