Why I'm Not an Idiot

Heat

Chris always used to say that there are two sides to everything. It could be good or bad, logical or ridiculous, mental or physical, etcetera. I guess I could say he programmed the Good Side and the Bad Side. I guess I could say he programmed everything about me, actually. Older people have a weird way of doing that: programming kids. They want to make sure the next generation that will rule their precious planet that they've lived on for so long isn't full of idiots.

The coolest thing Chris as ever pointed out is that normal doesn't exist. This sounds pretty cheesy until someone actually THOROUGHLY explains it, like Chris did. He said that the reason everyone is looking for "normal" is because they all want to be connected to the same thing, so they're never alone. This is why we read relatable Buzzfeed articles and why we love to see those magazines with the bold headlines stating "THIS CELEBRITY IS JUST LIKE YOU!" and some other bullshit like that. This is why people find comfort in religion: because they're part of a group. A connection. We're all looking for that connection that makes us all "normal".

However, he had explained, even though we think that some people are completely normal, like the "basic bitches", we also have a billion connections within ourselves. No one else in the world has these connections, because we all think differently. This also connects the "two sides to everything" thingy: "normal" (as in the large connections everyone is attached to) and your own internal connections that differentiate your brain from everyone else's.

Here's an example of this, using something that's happening right now:

A "normal" thought would be: I wake up to the words "Wake up".

See? Anyone in the world could think that. I bet a LOT of people have woken up to the words "Wake up". That's the point of saying "Wake up". That is normal.

A thought I am personally connected to would be: I wake up to the words "Wake up". Immediately, I try to match a face to the voice. My body is swimming in possibilities, wondering if this voice is on the Good Side or the Bad Side. The Good Side is sweet and gentle; the voice would softly shake me awake and would never force me. It would probably make me breakfast in bed and start my day with encouraging words and enthusiasm. The Bad Side, however, would violently shock me awake, like a punch or a kick. This would cause me to start my day with a rapidly-beating heart and a headache. It would spit in my breakfast that I made for myself and tell me how worthless I am, point out everything that's wrong with me and nothing that's good.

See my point?

In conclusion, I am not normal, because this is what I'm thinking right now as the unknown voice tries to wake me up. It snaps me awake from my everlasting dream of the ceiling, which is weird because I am not, in fact, staring at the ceiling. I'm lying on my stomach with my head sideways on my pillow, facing away from whoever is telling me to wake up. The transition from staring at the ceiling to staring at the wall makes me feel like I flipped over in a millisecond. I groan from the sudden dizziness.

I feel pressure on the bed as the mystery person sits down on the mattress. "Jake, puh-LEASE," the voice whines. It's a girl, and she's not being mean. It's Annie.

I flip over onto my back and look at the ceiling. stupid ceiling, abducting my dreams like that.

"What?" I mumble.

"Come on, Jake. We're washing the car and packing it up for Chris."

"I honestly doubt anyone wants me there."

"Come on!"

"Why?"

"It's a lot of work and we need help. Mom and Dad and Chris are all last-minute packing, so it's just you and me and Joseph and Alvin."