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Eldritch being.

As Jim Morrison says "Nobody remembers your name, when you're strange." it reminds me of the times I felt strange.

Now, let me explain; it wasn't because I was alone or felt lonely, I was gorwing up. I was a rider on a storm; specifically experiencing "youth". But, why did I feel strange? And, was I the only one who felt strange?

No, there was a plethora of children playing, feeling strange and fighting for freedom not knowing what was waiting for them at the end of the day.

Why we felt that way, I'm not certain, but I will clarify. Investigating this case is quite arduous. There's a storm following my every single step. I move to the right, it is there, behind my head, staring into my soul and haunting my mind. I go to the left, it is there, beside my ear, making me deaf to every other noise in the background and my thoughts are silenced.

And, I feel strange. Because, we all are strange. Men are wicked; they abandon you at the weirdest situations of your life, stabbing you in the heart and leaving a dirty smell to the point of your nose, significantly abusing your sensitive parts.

Now, was I really strange? Certainly, yes. Because, like I mentioned before, we are all strange. Rain falls on top of our heads, water engulfs our very being, flooding into our eyes and hardening our eyelashes. But, we still embrace it. We claim that we love it. Aren't we strange?

Bizarre, abnormal. People, in fact never wanted to talk to me; I apparently seemed "unfamiliar" (an elegant way to say to a person who is strange). Even my name comes from a word in Greek "xeno" = strange.

It's interesting how these people who dared to think of me as someone abnormal, were all some ignorant things, useless and with no talents. They were all jealous little worms, that liked to act dominant in front of a person who knew how to value time.

Matter of fact, I valued time. I still do. But, I had a façade; I was an innocent, docile and quite girl who always nodded and never raised her voice. I was hiding the real me. The strange version of me.

I embrace fear. I'm attached to danger; the one that makes you feel light and free. The adrenaline that you feel when you trespass the limits. What limits you might say? Every single thing that even comes to your mind.

I feel it in my bones; the rage and the fear combined together crafting chaos around me. And it all grasps. It all stongly tightens around my neck, making me gasp for air. I prefer being strange. I want to value time to pass my entire life into oblivion. I don't really have to worry about having a boring, office life; I'm addicted to thrill.

So, am I a stranger?

Well, if I were with a gorup of "normal" people then yes I would be a stranger; they are all the smame: dark and lizards. They crave for a bit of dominance and money. Time for them doesn't exist, instead they embrace impulsiveness. Aren't they monsters?

I'm alluding to a realm full of masks that hide in their inside an excess of hate and evil personalities, and try guessing what surrounds these outrageous beings? Other masks, but strange ones.

Voilà! WE ARE ALL STRANGE!