in the title of this entery, i'm not saying that i'm ashamed of my strangeness, far from it! but i do often wonder why? what is different inside my mind that makes me so different from other 19-year-old girls?
why do i seem to be the only one who can't stand today's pop culture? who would take beatles over beiber any day? who is so desperately passionate about pre-color-age films, especailly the silent ones? why were my first on-screen crushes (who still make my throat knot when they look directly into the camera) the ones that have scared/disturbed/weirded out other viewers for decades?
why do i disdain the things that people love, often regardless of what those things are? why do i find a fondness for the things others would do without? why do things like abandoned theatres and rusty oil drums inspire more happiness than shopping malls and gardens? why do i constantly find myself rooting for the "bad" guys, when i still count myself as "good" (for the most part)?
why am i talented at some things, like art, writing, music, sewing and design, and public speaking to large numbers, when i'm so aweful at basic things like coordination, dancing, social communication, directional cognition, and voicing complaints when some dearly need to be made?
why do i find beauty in ugliness, decay, and abandonment? why do i favor things like left, down, and behind, under the impression that they tend to be slighted by the masses? why do i tend to feel offended at compliments that i'm unused to? why does the idea of a party make me want to vomit, when the idea of being stuck in solitude for many days gets me excited?
why do i fear beauty? why do i have the suspicion that, if a man ever falls in love with me on a day i happen to look good, he would never accept me for all my weirdness?
and, above all, why am i okay with this? shouldn't these things bother me?
well, i suppose they would, if i were typical. but, seeing as i AM this odd, it doesn't bother me as much as it could.... still.... would be nice to know why.......
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