Those People.
Life looks glorious for Those People. They say things and people listen to them. They're terribly charming. And terribly smart. And terribly attractive (even those who are asymmetrical and awkward wear it with panache). Well read, well versed, well traveled. All that.
I'm not one of them.
I'm just me.
I say things sometimes --a few people listen because they're kind souls.
I can be charming, but only for short periods of time and usually by accident.
I got good grades in school, so I suppose I qualify as 'smart'. I've made enough mistakes, though, that I doubt that book learning is everything.
I am asymmetrical and awkward, hold the panache. I feel like an odd duck a great deal of the time.
I've read some books, but not as many as other people. I forget new learning easily and have to relearn things again and again --a side effect of disorganization. I have had the opportunity to travel some, but there are many other places I'd like to go.
The thing is, maybe Those People are not Those People, either. We can only guess at what Those People are, based on how people respond to them and how and what they choose to show the world.
I trust people more when they are willing to show off their insecurities, their struggles, and their ordinary truths. When confronted with one of Those People, I have a tendency to approach them with suspicion --what are you hiding, and when will the other shoe drop? These are my prejudices, I realize. Some of them are formed from experience; some from insecurities.
It must be hard to be one of Those People. What happens when you make a mistake, have a pimple, burp in public? What if you haven't read All The Right Books? Are you scorned? Mocked by your friends? Sent to a reeducation camp? What must it be like for them?
Perhaps I may seem like one of Those People to others. I don't know --I only know how I feel, and I feel like an odd duck more often than not.
And who are you? Are you one of Those People?