Until, I moved to Chiang Mai, and started living with my kinfolk, I used to think I am insane. I used to think that I was an alien. That no one on this planet was like me, and that I was going to go crazy before the end of my life, if I ever got there. I believed I was an alien that was planted here, for some weird experiment. I didn’t understand the point of me, my existence, my life.
I lived, because I had to live. My parents wanted me to live, my friends wanted me to live, and this world wanted me to live. In fact, I kept on believing that there was some reason for my existence. I had to believe that, because if I didn’t, I would have really gone insane, or I would have killed myself a long time ago.
I am not saying, I am special in anyway. There are many people on this planet who feel exactly the same way. They feel out of place, and therefore, they think that they don’t belong. They might be born in Texas, but might believe in the pro-life denominations. Or they might be born in Israel, and have Moslem tendencies. These are just random examples, but you know what I mean.