|Insignificant? - A Short Story
Author: the.one.with.the.camera PM
Who knows why we're really here? Perhaps so insignificant decisions weren't so insignificant in the first place? Don't judge a book by it's cover, isn't that what we're always told?Rated: Fiction T - English - Words: 1,099 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 01-02-13 - Status: Complete - id: 3088466
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Have you ever looked around and wondered; how did I get here? Whether it is about a location, a job, a decision – and you just can't figure out how the puzzle pieces fit to make this particular jigsaw. Then you start questioning whether or not it's fate or whether you were being subconsciously pushed into making the decision. You may even start to question whether you made a wrong decision along the way or perhaps it was right one but you just don't realise...yet.
It happens to all of us at some point or another, the only two questions that remain are: when and why? Once 'when' is sorted out, all that remains is 'why?' The unfortunate – or perhaps fortunate – thing is; is that why seems to be one of the most unanswerable question there is! You see, life is not like maths or science where there is nearly always a definite answer. For example, you know that speed equals distance divided by time, (and if you didn't know, you do now!), or that no matter how hard you try, one plus one will always equal two, (unless you are some mathematical genius).
Life is more like a novel or the arts; up to interpretation. For example, the song Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen has around 14,838,394,082 interpretations to it – all different to different people, (according to research anyway). A single word can mean something different to different people, depending on the context and/or the person. Sometimes the simplest of things can mean the most – figuratively or literally. For example, the word 'set' has 464 different definitions, (again according to research).
The point I'm trying to get at here is that no matter how hard you try, you are never going to get a definite answer as to why you are where you are. You might have a pretty good idea as to why you're here and chances are you are certain as to how and why you now have a piece of toast on your plate. But the likelihood is you won't know why you're here, (as in on this earth!), until, (maybe), you have that epiphany moment.
Sometimes not knowing is good, right? At least that's what I've been told; 'ignorance is bliss' and everything. But you know what? It drives me absolutely insane! I am nearly certain that I am physically incapable of not knowing. I NEED to know every possible answer or interpretation to absolutely everything. I'm not entirely sure how I ended up like this, I just now that I am and it's driving me completely bonkers!
I have pretty much every phobia in the metaphorical book! Claustrophobia, arachnophobia, phobophobia, achluophobia, atychiphobia, gelotophobia, et cetera. I don't feel safe in very many places but I like being somewhere where I can be on my own but I can still observe the world around me.
My mum thought that as I grew up it would just go but as you have probably figured out, it didn't. I mean my actual life is normal; I wake up, go to work, come home and go to bed. Same with when I was at school; I woke up, went to school, come home and went to bed. The only 'abnormal' thing about me as a kid was that I was extremely bright. To the point on doing undergraduate work at the age of eleven, (yes that does mean that I was going to university at the tender age of eleven).
Mum took to a doctor, a child psychologist and I think she even took me to psychotherapy, (what good that did I don't know). Anyway, both the doctor and psychologist said that my mental age is about twice perhaps triple my physical age. So if I have done my maths correctly, (which I probably have!), when I was ten, my mental age was between 20 and 30 years of age. Yeah, I'm not really sure how that's supposed work because following that, that would mean that now, being 24, mentally I am between the ages of 48 and 72. That is a considerable gap!
When I was younger, I didn't have many friends, (don't get me wrong though I wasn't like the lone traveller), but I did have an older brother, Alex. He was five years my senior and seemed to, no matter what, always put up with me and on occasion, stand up for me. He was, (and still is), my best friend. He never patronised me, like others did, he simply spoke to me as an equal – a rare quality to find nowadays. He looked out for me more than my mother ever did. She gave up on me very early on and then just became hostile. She always said that i asked too many questions and then proceeded to throw something at me like I was a stray dog. Usually, it was a paper weight but it varied and to be brutally honest, I was terrified. Alex tried looking out for me as much as he could but our mother was unpredictable. When he did get the slightest hint that she was home, he grabbed my arm and took me out. We would wonder around for hours until we finally went home.
Sometimes he would take me into town and we would sit in a cafe. He would read some classic novel and I just simply watched the people come in and out. Quickly I formed a theory on each person. A theory consisting of: age, occupation, mood, class, relationship status, et cetera. Occasionally I would get a bit too engrossed in trying to figure the out that they would turn and look at me weirdly. Alex never did though, he would put down his novel and ask me ask what I saw. I then went to tell him all my different theories until closing time, (to be honest I didn't really notice until they put the chairs/stools up on the table next to us).
Perhaps it was from then that my life today was beginning to form. Maybe if Alex didn't take me out of the house things would be very different. Maybe all those seemingly insignificant decisions weren't as insignificant as first thought.
Maybe...maybe not. Only time will tell...right?
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