There are the lucky ones – who are born without any physical or psychological difficulties, who are always several steps ahead of their time, who break records and earn accolades, the kind which makes their generation proud, the archetype which sets precedence, they are the standard by which every other is measured. They are the loyal servants who never question…they are programmed to follow. They are the evil grins behind an innocuous masquerade, the hidden enemies in your list of trusted friends, the invisible dagger at your throat.
Then, there are those miserable fools who are abnormally usual by birth. They are wild, free and careless…they are unfazed by the status quo and its relentless pursuit in trying to rein them in. In a demesne of straight lines, they are the grotesque bends; the misfits in a world of blind faith. They think the unthinkable, dream the unimaginable. They are the ones you diplomatically avoid. In a baffling crowd, it is their voice you hear. You hate them because they perplex you. By your standards of imagination, they are unashamedly overstretched.
You look for them, you see them everywhere…you look further, they are gone.