There are few remaining places in this world, as the song goes, ‘this planet full of strife’, for people like me. Of all the places I have seen, or visited, none satisfies the specification in my mind of the kind of place I can be comfortable in my own skin in. Except, of course, for my beloved Everything, my one remaining sanctuary- only even this doesn’t count, not being a part of the universe in which I live, but a universe in its own right. This doesn’t seem to make sense- surely, there is a place for everybody in the world, surely, in God’s omniscience, in His scheme of things I have an assigned part? Surely, I am also a cog in the universal machine, surely, there is somewhere for me, somewhere where I fit? Or, can it be that I really have no significance, and therefore have no place in the universe, and truly don’t belong? This is, very much, the impression one receives after seventeen years in my position- indeed, I feel, after reading the beautifully chilling ‘Brave New World’ for the second time, that Huxley kept my spirit locked away in a jar all those yers before my conception and studied it, wrote it into his novel and named it John. And later transferred the rights to Harper Lee, who renamed it Boo. The only people I can truly relate to are fictional characters. That is eye-wateringly sad, but true. Oh, so true. To this world of five-fingered gloves, I contribute nothing but a six-fingered hand. To make things worse for me, God built my soul out of pure love, so I cannot hate, as much as I want to-- I simply cannot hate, I have no choice but to unconditionally love that which has so often rejected me, tossed me aside like a piece of fat clinging to a shoulder of lamb, treated me like a dirty word for seventeen years+, since my conception some time in August 1987 to the present day and beyond. I am what happens when a bull of a man comes home out of the cold and meets his mouse of a wife. I wasn’t planned, I simply was. I love that which has so often rejected me, not by my own volition, but by orders from that Higher Power which put me in this position.
Well, now I am miserable no longer, and feel I can laugh at the absurdity of the previous side of A4 of ranting. It seemed to gradually progress from wondering to despairing. I’m quite done, now.