I am feeling sentimental, listening to Tom Waits bellowing “Time” while looking at snapshots from my life.
Perhaps not a normal occurrence in the wee hours of the morning, but then I’m not one to be normal. I am enjoying looking at the snaps of my family. Reminiscing of the early years of the teen. How much he has grown. My baby niece who is almost 2 looks like a completely different child now with her blond locks and bright blue eyes when compared to her new-born dark hair and almost navy-blue eyes.
Time goes by so fast that it’s scary.
Then the song changed, and I got a flash of a memory that made me literally laugh out loud.
When I was in training for my job at a telemarketing firm, the guy in charge was called George and he was the most random dude ever. I liked everything about him. He reminded me of the character Renfield (played by Waits BTW) from Bram Stokers Dracula. His hair and glasses had that vibe. And his Shoes? Oh my god those shoes were awesome. Think creeper shoes but with purple zebra print panelling. Every other day he would be in a different pair. Same style, different design. Mainly animal print of every funky colour but holy shit they were amazing!
During times where we had to study something or do one of the million questionnaires, he would put on background music and one song just hit me. I could not get it out of my head when I got home. It was like an ear worm that refused to die. The next day when we were leaving for break, I asked him if he could tell me the name of the song.
“You’ll need to narrow it down; I play a lot of music” – Which was true. The majority was Jazz.
“I can’t remember the words; it was like a song that the seven dwarfs would sing on their way to bludgeon Snow white”
That look still to this day makes me smirk. Like I confused shock then realisation. “This” he said and played Gods away on business by Tom Waits.
That was it!
That’s the song that I was playing in my head non bloody stop. I told him that was it and he laughed. He had never heard it described quite like that and he informed me that he thought I was so normal but I’m actually quite dark which was all the more amusing since he was able to guess by my description.
I get that a lot though.
“Your seemed so normal when I met you”
“You didn’t seem so weird before”
“Fuck you’re dark”
Its common and I genuinely don’t mind, and I understand where it comes from. At first glance I don’t inherently look that much different to a “normal” person. Whatever that may be. I don’t stand out in a crowd if you ignore the boobs and I generally float under the radar quite well. I like that. I’m not a fan of attention. I’m quite happy to just sit at the side and people watch. I cook, I bake, I clean, I sew, I knit and if you introduced me to your granny, we could have a wonderful time chatting about anything. I'm what someone would think as a "typical mum". I’m a lovely approachable person I’m told. But when you get to know me, you realise that I’m actually quite a strange person. I am not “normal”.
Where I love Disney, Bumblebees and butterflies … I also love horror, read books on serial killers and listen to metal. Where most girls think the most romantic places in the world are Paris and Italy, I think the Haunted Mansion in Disney world is the most romantic place. Where most girls liked barbies, I coveted the living dead dolls.
I’ve been like that since I was a child. I was obsessed with Buffy the vampire slayer and then Supernatural. When we were in P5 (so about 10 years old) we done a topic on Egypt and we had to write an essay about it. I researched, drew pictures and gave a presentation on the mummification process. While others made models of pyramids or hieroglyphic tablets, I made my own canopic jar with modelling clay and papier mache. In P7 we could choose our own topic to give a presentation on – Most gave talks on their favourite football player or animal or something like that. I researched medieval torture methods – Much to the horror of my teacher who stopped me and made me redo the assignment with something less weird. Bitch.
I am more comfortable with the darker side of life too. I can talk about any topic, including the ones most people feel uncomfortable discussing. I find comfort in it somehow. Like death. Everyone is terrified to die and I get that. I don’t want to die at the moment as there is more living I want to do, but I know that I will one day and when my time is up then its up. When my gran passed away in December, I spend days crying my eyes out till one day I wondered how other people in other cultures dealt with death. I spent hours reading on how the Aboriginals would keep a souvenir of the deceased – usually a bone or how some tribes believe the best way to celebrate the persons life would be to eat them. Some monks believe death should benefit life and they would leave their dead to feed vultures and other animals. I took comfort in that – Why? I have no clue but I did. Death wither we like it or not is a part of life. I would draw things that made some of my family uncomfortable but to be honest, its not my job to make people comfortable. Life for me is weird and wonderful, so I embrace that. Even the nasty shit that make people baulk.
I get that a lot though.
“Your seemed so normal when I met you”
“You didn’t seem so weird before”
“Fuck you’re dark”
Its common and I genuinely don’t mind, and I understand where it comes from. At first glance I don’t inherently look that much different to a “normal” person. Whatever that may be. I don’t stand out in a crowd if you ignore the boobs and I generally float under the radar quite well. I like that. I’m not a fan of attention. I’m quite happy to just sit at the side and people watch. I cook, I bake, I clean, I sew, I knit and if you introduced me to your granny, we could have a wonderful time chatting about anything. I'm what someone would think as a "typical mum". I’m a lovely approachable person I’m told. But when you get to know me, you realise that I’m actually quite a strange person. I am not “normal”.
Where I love Disney, Bumblebees and butterflies … I also love horror, read books on serial killers and listen to metal. Where most girls think the most romantic places in the world are Paris and Italy, I think the Haunted Mansion in Disney world is the most romantic place. Where most girls liked barbies, I coveted the living dead dolls.
I’ve been like that since I was a child. I was obsessed with Buffy the vampire slayer and then Supernatural. When we were in P5 (so about 10 years old) we done a topic on Egypt and we had to write an essay about it. I researched, drew pictures and gave a presentation on the mummification process. While others made models of pyramids or hieroglyphic tablets, I made my own canopic jar with modelling clay and papier mache. In P7 we could choose our own topic to give a presentation on – Most gave talks on their favourite football player or animal or something like that. I researched medieval torture methods – Much to the horror of my teacher who stopped me and made me redo the assignment with something less weird. Bitch.
I am more comfortable with the darker side of life too. I can talk about any topic, including the ones most people feel uncomfortable discussing. I find comfort in it somehow. Like death. Everyone is terrified to die and I get that. I don’t want to die at the moment as there is more living I want to do, but I know that I will one day and when my time is up then its up. When my gran passed away in December, I spend days crying my eyes out till one day I wondered how other people in other cultures dealt with death. I spent hours reading on how the Aboriginals would keep a souvenir of the deceased – usually a bone or how some tribes believe the best way to celebrate the persons life would be to eat them. Some monks believe death should benefit life and they would leave their dead to feed vultures and other animals. I took comfort in that – Why? I have no clue but I did. Death wither we like it or not is a part of life. I would draw things that made some of my family uncomfortable but to be honest, its not my job to make people comfortable. Life for me is weird and wonderful, so I embrace that. Even the nasty shit that make people baulk.
For too long I lived a lie life which just breaks your soul. I firmly believe that people should be themselves (so long as it doesn't impact another persons life) cause to live a lie is a waste of life, and you only get one. I'm not for everyone and that's OK. I don't want to be. I keep my tribe small for a reason. And even then there are parts of me that none of them will ever see. Daddy has came the closest and even he has commented on how my brain works different from most. So far he seems fascinated - but for most of those out there, I am not your kind.
I’ve had conversations with friends about it. They try to diagnose me as it were. Maybe I’m like this because I had a really destructive childhood. Maybe its my mental health that’s made me like this, maybe I have depression because I like dark stuff. Maybe its X, Y or Z … But at the end of the day everyone is different and that’s OK. I like different things and I guess if it makes me quirky then so be it.
When I branched into the world of BDSM, it kinda fit for me and one or two friends weren’t surprised. He said I’m the best of both worlds really – I do all the nice stuff like cook, clean and take care of my partner like a 50’s housewife. But then there is this other side that likes sex and hates chick flicks and would fuck up anyone that tried to mess with my tribe. I am a unicorn. I'm rare and hard to control/keep happy. To me though, I'm just me. Nothing special yet highly unique.
My bestie talks about her ideal weekend break away where she will go out to a fancy restaurant, be pampered and get pissed on prosecco. My ideal weekend away is Edinburgh to go Frankenstein’s, Visit the Edinburgh Dungeon, then go on a ghost tour – Or to London, Visit the Dungeon then do the Jack the Ripper tour.
Like I said, I am not “normal” ... and I'm all good with that.
Like I said, I am not “normal” ... and I'm all good with that.
No comments