It started when I was a kid. No, not even a kid. I was just an infant when my parents knew I was different. As my mother use to wrap her warm arms against my small frail body, I would gaze off into the distance. In a wondering calm state I turned my silky face to the dark, ominous room across the hall. As I think about her story that she told me now, I knew what the dangers were at a young age. Seems like I was always looking and becoming curious of the dark and the sometimes cruel world that we are in. My mother and I, standing in the luminous room. Just her and I. She cradled me and smiled. How did she know I was not like the rest? Well, as I got older being ‘not like the rest’ wasn't necessarily a good thing and I wished I could be normal. You know? Like all the other kids? How easy it must be for them… For they only have to deal with this world that they are in. I had adult problems since I was seven and I definitely did not have a great childhood. The other kids don’t have to deal with overthinking the world and trying to grasp the evil and all the cruel and the logics. I tried all my life to grasp this concept but as I gazed at in amazement, the harder I tried to grasp it, it only fell through my fingers… like smoke. All the other kids can just focus on sports and you know… like baseball and hair and stuff. But no I was the kid digging in the dirt with my cleats, ‘playing second base’ with bigger and better things on my mind... How strange for these thoughts to cross the mind of a young boy. There’s a lot more to know and a lot more to say. But I can tell you I'm definitely not like the rest and to sum it up. I never will be.