I met someone. And he was normal. Normal in the sense that you prounounce it 'norrrrrrr-mal' like it's such a brilliant revelation. He was new and distracting and so not as passé than the stock I was cultivated to adore. Mysterious and Enigmatic and Not What I Was Used To. Seemed to have just carry-on luggage, and had no idea that I had just checked in my emotional baggage. He wasn't part of the world of elitistism and Flinders Street Station. No one else knew him. So he was mine. I claimed, and put forward to all how enamoured I was with someone who was finally normal. Of course, this was an exemplarary characteristic because if they were normal, I could too be normal, right?
Time passed, and the descriptor 'normal' tended not to give much, or stimulate the imagination of clamouring friends, trying to decipher just what or whom had captured me in such a way. I said normal, because it was the deepest compliment. For someone like me, who sees everything filtered and clouded by so many lenses with a constantly explanding, Normal was and is, free from the crazy and the pain and the past and the things I could never change. But, if we take the literal approach, normal lends itself to the ordinary, boring, mundane, stock-standard to which is most definitely not in line with the purpose of any act, and crosses borders of absurdity.
He is extraordinary. Extra-ordinary. Outside ordinary. Not lots of ordinary. He is normal because he fits an ideal in my head of what people should be like.
So maybe I need to brush up on my adjectives it seems.
I also think I need to work on my planning. Being a notorious undervaluer of life's time constraints, I tend to turn my nose at the construct of man that chronologicalises our sentences here. And we all know I fall hard and fast, I mean we all have an idea, my complusive nature dies hard (good thing it's my bad habit), but I really wasn't planning on this. All this emotional discrepancy. God, it feel good to feel sometimes. Of course, the converse also, mixed with this unfamiliar territory. The Road Not Taken?
Whatever road I did take, I'm sure glad I did. Sometimes I feel like life is magical. Probably going to have to take this down once I publish (like many others) because this whole embarrassing myself thing has to stop. Then again, who am I kidding? I'll never have dignity.