Meth: a Ticking Timebomb Gone Viral

This One Goes Out to All the Clumsy People

Ever since I was a child, I've been clumsy. And not just clumsy, but awkward...different...an outsider. When two captains were choosing their teams, I would invariably be the last one picked. I didn't think I was that bad, but then, what would I know? The only solace was, or should I say, is, I am not alone. And when you think about it, without us, the losers and freaks of this world, who would the cool kids have to laugh at...to ridicule and pick last?

Of course, we, the weirdos and vagabonds, never ever lose our ability to clap at the wrong place in the movie (thanks David) or drop whatever it is we drop, much to the amusement of our friends. Oh, yes, we, the pariahs and recreants, do have friends (mostly), after all, every group needs a goof off...an oddball or a bottom feeder. Someone to look down on in the kindest and most sympathetic way.

There are times here on WdC when I, an ostracized nonconformist, can feel my slightly off-centre persona being pushed aside in preference for cooler, prettier and/or more intelligent people. Like when I review someone's work... and then wait...holding my breath until said author replies with a, "Thanks for taking the time and gifting me your thoughts" kind of thing. Of course, expectations will often lead to disappointment, and being one of the slow and marginalized ones, it can sometimes take a while for things to sink in. Admittedly, this generally only applies when dealing with the upper echelons of the group as a whole, and the majority of people do have these old-fashioned notions of manners and appreciation. And if any one group could be labelled old-fashioned, it is us clumsies.

That may sound a little bitter, and to a degree, it is (after a lifetime of ignorance, it's hard not to be a little bitter...and besides, very few care about how I, a lowlife iconoclast, feel anyway). So, why not lash out every now and then, just to see if anyone is actually listening? But on the whole, we clumsies take it in our stride. I mean, what choice do we have...really.

Now, here's the thing...when I say that we, the overweight, the lonely and the outcasts, are not alone, what I really mean is that we, the previously and aforementioned underperformers, are the majority. And the cool, the chic`, the beautiful and the (so-called) smart people, are the minority (can't have too many winners hogging the limelight, after all). All I can say about that is they are lucky because we, the ugly and socially challenged, are a very forgiving and tolerant group of individuals (barring the occasional rant from one or two bitter, psychotic lepers...like me, here..."Pass me my finger, please! It fell off while I was waving it at them").

We must also take into consideration the crossover group...the nexus people who belong to the majority (us misfits and rejects), but who strive to be cooler, edgier, and much better than those they know as well as they know themselves and yet, don't want to be associated with...let's call them the Tryhards, for want of a better word. These people, who try very hard, only manage to score credits, but never honours nor passes, and are the middle ground between them and us...them being the jocks and the coolest and brightest of the bunch...and us being...well, just us...the rest

And so...here we are (uncomfortable silences ONLY apply to them, because we, the deviants and transgressors, are so used to silence that we have actually come to enjoy those quiet moments...and lucky for us that is).

There's only one thing I like about trends...and that is they shift. I always knew that one day, we, the anxious and the meek, would have our day in the sun. We just have to make sure we, the pale and pasty, are covered from head to toe in sunscreen and SPF 40 beachwear...styling...and don't forget the floppy hat. Well, I'm pretty sure that one day we will. I can't wait to kick sand in the face of some muscle-bound example of perfection and handsomeness. And when I do, for sure I will trip over my own feet and apologise profusely. After all, accidents do happen, especially to Mwah.