Alright, let’s take a crack and this fucking thing again.

Here’s the quick and dirty version : I can’t make peace with my prodigous IQ because I don’t like where that leads.

Namely, it leads to the conclusion that I am vastly superior to most people and that compared to me, most people are children poking about in the dirt.

That is the inevitable unacceptable. That is the conclusion I cannot avoid and cannot accept. That is the irresolvable conflict.

Divide by zero, baby.

I can’t avoid the fact that I am intellectually superior to most of humanity. The evidence is rather overwhelming. Stick me in any form of school and it soon becomes evident. I get high marks without even trying.

And this has been true for my entire life. I mean, I learned to read when I was three and a half. And nobody taught me (except maybe Sesame Street), I figured it out by myself, all at once, like a thunderclap of revelation.

Even I find that hard to fathom, and I am the one who did it.

So blah blah blah, I’m crazy smart, etc. Sorry if my bringing it up so much makes it seem like I am bragging. I am not.

I bring it up so often because I am trying to learn to deal with and accept it.

And I have spoken before about why I can’t accept it. It feels like if I was to accept it, it would pull me away from the rest of humanity and put me high atop a pedestal somewhere, looking down on everybody, way up in the air.

And that thought terrifies me. I don’t want to be on that goddamned pedestal. It’s cold and lonely and there’s not enough air up there.

And yet, I can’t see a middle path. In theory, it should be possible to fully integrate and enjoy my extraordinary intellectual powers without becoming some kind of raving loonie with delusions of grandeur, or worse, an elitist prick, but the option simply is not there for me on an emotional level.

I seem to have the kind of mind that goes to extremes.

I don’t know either, Billy.

And I can feel a darker version of me struggling to get free. Someone who is smug and arrogant and sarcastic and enigmatic who knows he can run rings around most people intellectually and hence views them with mocking disdain when he’s not just toying with them lfor his own entertainment ike a cat toying with a mouse before killing it.

I don’t want to be that guy. And yet, for reasons I don’t know how to explain, I feel like he’s the only next step available to me, so it’s become him or stay stunted.

No wonder I am so goddamned conflicted about the whole thing. I only have one option and it sucks.

And I can’t help thinking that if I were a more normal person, I would have just become that guy as a young adult and gotten over it decades ago.

But I am not a normal person.

I am someone far too aware of the options and the consequences for his own good.

I’mma lay down now. More on this later, maybe.

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You know, sometimes I pee so much in a given day that it starts to feel like a job.

Like every time my bladder is full, it’s my boss calling me and telling me to stop fucking around and get back to work

“Srry, gotta go, my boss just called and man, does he sound pissed!”

Ba dum tish.

Anyhow, knowing too much for my own good.

I think it’s a matter of the loss of innocence I experienced when I was raped. Amongst many other devastating effectives that the rap had, it opened my eyes to the darkness, evil, and pain of the world and destroyed whatever protective mechanism normally keeps kids from learning things before they are ready for them.

Innocence is as good a name for said mechanism as any.

Then later on, I started consciously trying to figure people out. Before that, I could perceive a lot about other people’s emotions and how radically different what they say and feel can be, but I had never tried to understand them on a conscious level.

I started because I wanted to understand my bullies.

I did it while hiding in this grey box here :

That’s where I would hide from them. Lying there in the foot or so between the bottomn of the inside of the box and the rim, lying in cold water or filthy snow or whatever else the weather put in there. In there, every recess and lunch, every schoo day for many years. Hiding from my fellow students.

It made me feel safe.

Little did I know that this line of inquiry would lead to my learning a whole new level of things I was too young to know. I figured out things about people that they didn’t know about themselves. People’s motivations and drives became crystal clear to me. It was like I could see right through their skulls and into their very souls.

And there’s a lot of things a kid just plain ain’t supposed to see in there.

Even now, that’s a hard thing to say, because the inner child in me haughtily insists that there is no knowledge that could hurt him, rugged little genius that he is.

He doesn’t need to be babied like other kids. He can handle the rough stuff!

And maybe he’s right. I have no direct memory of learnings something I ought not to know. But then again, I wouldn’t, would I?

I lacked the necessary sophistication to even recognize that situation.

But I can say this : learnign all that I ;learned that way can’t have been good to me. There is a reason for innocence and consequences to its fall.

I can’t remember a time that I felt safe.

Maybe I need the ol’ grey box again.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.