It's funny how other people try to be different from others yet end up doing exactly the same things whereas try as I may to be the same, I will always be different. I guess you could say I don't really try hard enough. I want to be accepted but I don't want to change. I'm truly happy being the way I am. Except, I wonder, why there are so few who are just like me. I just want people who would take me as I am, who value the same things that I do. I feel like the last survivor of a dying race, pretending to live among people who are not my own but yearning for a place where I don't have live a farce to be accepted. Maybe there are more like me, each closeted by their perception of solitude.
The more people I meet though, the more convinced tbat what I value and the way I think are very different from those of many of my peers. I feel old, like I've entered a 4th dimensional world but everyone else is not and all they think is that I've gone daft. But I'm not and I can't get them to see the way I do. I hate how there are times when I know I am right but truth is just a popularity contest and murmurs of lies amidst the multitudes becomes the new reality. So powerless is the strenght of one.
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