I talk a lot in this space about being He Who Walks Through Walls, a five dimensional being, from the point of view of others. My mind moves in ways they just can’t grasp because it’s too different. And I step through the social and mental barriers that confine others, sometimes without even knowing I am doing it.

That’s not me bragging. That me explaining part of the genesis of my isolation. Because if I don’t know I am doing it, I have no idea why people are staring at me and I can’t understand why others don’t do as I do.

Hence, they look at me like I just grew a third arm out of my hest and used it to adjust my crotch. And I can’t see why.

I really can’t. From my point of view, what I say doesn’t seem to be markedly different from what others are saying. And yet, somehow, it doesn’t connect.

Maybe it’s how I say it. I’ve talked before about my realization that there’s an inherent pause before I speak because I am always thinking hard about what I say and I am not comfortable speaking from emotion or impulse.

I was gonna work on that. But it’s so hard to change the habit of a lifetime.

So it might just be an artifact of my being out of sync with others. But I don’t think so. I think there has to be more to it than that.

Because it’s not just that my timing is off. People literally don’t grasp what I am saying. They understand the notes but they can’t hear the melody. Something about the actual content of what I say is beyond people. I wish I knew what it was.

Other than it being a matter of intelligence. It’s not impossible that the problem is that what I say comes from an IQ far enough above a lot of people that communication on my terms is simply impossible for them. I hate this line of thinking and I have resisted it so far because not only does it make me feel like I am being an elitist prick but it suggests that my lack of connection with others is simply unsolvable.

Not without some kind of major paradigm shift in my head, anyhow. The kind that would allow me to view others as childlike inferiors and talk down to them. And I really do not want to do that.

But maybe I have to. I don’t know. Maybe I am beating my head bloody against a brick wall when I am trying to speak to others as equals. Maybe a certain recognition of my superiority would actually make me a better person.

But I don’t want to go there. I loathe the very idea of it. I don’t want to hold myself above, even if it’s justified. I want to be with people, not above them.

And it’s not like I am incomprehensible to everybody. There’s people who get me. People who run at my speed, I suppose, or at the very least, I can run at theirs.

Where was I going with this before I began to ramble? Oh right.

So I do walk through the walls of reality that hold a lot of people together. But then, what holds me together? What keeps lil old polymorphous me from oozing down the drain?

Sometimes it feels like there’s nothing at all holding me together. Nothing except a constant input of will and concentration. Mental muscles frozen in place by constant exertion holding together a barely viscous puddle of person, and the accompanying terror of letting go and having all that is inside me come out.

Maybe that would be the best thing for me, honestly. Here comes the flood. Let the river wash me clean and take my troubles away from me.

But I am so scared. Who would I become? What would be left of me? Would I have to start all over again from scratch, like V from V For Vendetta?  Would I even recognize the person I am when all the bad stuff is gone?

I keep picturing this smug sarcastic prick who is so totally convinced of his own effortless superiority that he doesn’t take anything serious and manipulates people for his own gain or even just his own amusement and who always seems to be three steps ahead of the consequences of his actions and doesn’t even care.

That’s a version of me that the world can do without.

But I do wonder sometimes if being that prick would work better for me.

And besides, it’s not like that’s all of me. It’s just a facet. The reality of the situation is that I am one complicated dude with a lot of facets to my personality and that’s why I have such a hard time integrating it all into one identity.

Back to walls. My lack of them seems, to me, to be both the key to all my powers and the reason I am so fucked up mentally. Or possibly the result of it.

It’s hard to sort out cause and effect in these kinds of things.

I look at people in their carefully cloistered lives and wonder what it would be like to have that kind of sense of security and safety. I’m such a creature of the trackless tundra that I honestly don’t know.

I find it very hard to imagine being so limited. I instinctively eschew limitation. Ironic for someone who has suffered from lack of structure, both internal and external, all his life.

But I automatically avoid limitations and so I end up standing apart, alone, looking in at that bright warm world where others prosper then picking up my bindle and moving on.

Is it even possible for me to come in from the cold? I don’t know. Maybe. Sometimes I am afraid I would melt. Lose all sense of who I am.

Then again, who I am isn’t exactly working that well for me now. Maybe some melting would do me good, let me assume a new shape.

One that works better for this crazy world.

One where I can be happy.

And nothing is more important than that.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.