Different Permutations

I don’t know where I go from here. Life keeps throwing me curve balls and I keep swinging and missing. It seems as though the older I get, the more things don’t make any sense. They just don’t.

Eventually, I’m going to stop trying to make sense of things altogether.

Earlier today, I found myself having to apologize to someone because I have an extensive vocabulary and the occasional insight.

Yes, I told somebody today that I was sorry for using a variety of words when I communicate and because sometimes I think about things and every now and then, my thoughts might make sense.

I never thought I’d reach such a low, but here I am.

Now, if it matters, the way that I write is the exact same way that I speak and vice versa. So everything that you are reading (or have read in this diary) would come out the exact same way, whether you were reading it or if I was in front of you saying it out loud.

It’s one of the many quirks about me and at least until today, it was never anything that I would have considered to have been anything negative. Apparently, to at least one person out there in the world, it is.

While this whole situation baffles me, this sort of thing isn’t going to change who I am or how I communicate. I’m not going to “dummy” down how I speak or write just because some people out there don’t like it or don’t get it.

Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have fathomed that being a wordsmith could be perceived as something negative, bad, or even remotely undesirable.

I just don’t get it.  Where the fuck did I go wrong?