Kids understand their mistakes once an adult yells at them. This one warning only is enough for them to not do it again.
I couldn't help but to keep making mistakes every time, and every time was not only an adult, but also other kids making me notice of my errors.
That's when I started, very young, to try to be careful in every little thing I did.
But it still wasn't enough.
Why did the others didn't have the same energy as me ? Why am I so clumsy ? What do I have more than everyone else ?
This ruined my childhood, and is still ruining every thing else that is following.
Truly, it's a blessing and a curse at the same time. It makes you not pay attention to any of your surroundings, but takes you in a wonderful dreamland instead.
A poison who's contagious, a remedy against boredom.
It makes me feel like a defected piece of a puzzle, I can't fit anywhere but the trash can.
In a community where even in my own blood, rejection is where I belong.
I never imagined I'd be blamed for something I never ever had control of, especially from the ones who conceived me, who made me like this.
The sharpen words they used to model me in the little perfect child they dreamt of, didn't accomplished. Yet all this pressure of their hopes and disappointment, made me shatter even more in thousands of tiny pieces of Volt.
It hurts. It makes the energy they gave me freeze in the tiny electrics wires constituting my battery body. It is as much as a short circuit of a machine.
As those sharpened words, illegal yet not forbidden in this cruel language of human, sounded normal to them, it echoed for years in my brain. It sounded as piercing as a bomb falling from the sky, ready to implode in my head and tympans in any seconds.
I'd always laugh at their shattering bullets coming out of their mouth, as if it didn't just made me want to explode into their face and leave the electric trail of mine on their face, so it could infect them too.
You don't even have to be in someone's shoes to understand how they feel because you don't have to throw your white shoes in a mud to know it's going to be dirty. You shouldn't favorise your ego over the value of an human being.
Never did the thought of, chopping my brain into pieces, take off one by one the defected pieces which made me this active, passed through their own rotten brain ?
Of course I had been as ashamed as them. I already knew something wasn't quite right at a young age where I should've enjoyed and stayed in an innocent denial. Yet my favorite childhood hobby was the 7 differences game, except I couldn't spot all of them. I played this cruel game to win the prize which was to finally achieve the norm and to be accepted for once.
It is as if I was educating everyone once again, because clearly they forgot what a human feels.
They could be the problem, but I could too. Maybe it's not them, maybe it is really me.
Maybe it's not me, maybe it is really them.
Perhaps if I put on the smile, the one I've been practicing in-front of my mirror for the past long and painful years, I'd finally be accepted.
Perhaps if I don't speak too fast, but as slow as a snail every time I open the mouth of mine even for a millisecond, I'd be normal
Perhaps if I was just born with the norms, I'd be free.
