Painful Adaptation

Have you ever thought that you are the smartest person in the world? What about the stupidest? Do you have that feeling? An unspoken whisper that specifies you from others?
I’ve been there. TBH, I’m still there :).
The distance I kept never bothered me. Just that if I’m the stupidest, I would like to improve. I like to know how greetings work. Or why and how some people get the right to rule. What is the point of official manners? Or wearing something (anything) in such heat, while you can come out free and enjoy the breeze as the most of it? Why “on god’s green Earth” would you worship and perform any kind of ceremony for it? How could we call ourselves humans when we’re still fertile? And the law. The impossible part is and will always be understanding your rules. Marriage, contracts, fines, trials, jails and swinging. Every single one, written or trad. Rules that following them made a great daily-basis actor out of me.
I know how weird I must seem to you, dear reader. For many years, these questions were my taboos. My ultimate red lines. I would never share them or impose them to be answered. “This is how human acts.” “These are basics of civilization.” “Go back to your cave, you amoeb!”
Then again, I might be an amoeb. In a non-modest, confessional, realistic and post-middle-twenties way, I might be so very much an imbecile.
When I was 15, it was the other way around. But then I learned and learned and learned… “I’m the smartest person in the world.” Said the stupidest.

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