Some people are stubborn and will refuse to admit to this, but it’s a proven fact (by some scientist from some department of psychology that I don’t know and probably doesn’t exist) that people act much differently alone, away from other people. For example, my apartment was empty a few minutes ago, except for of course, myself, and my usual staying-in-my-bedroom-silently act became completely nonexistent. In other words, I rushed to the bottom left drawer of my desk, pulled out a mini portable speaker, and plugged it into my iTouch. Immediately, ‘Send On My Way,’ by Rusted Root (a really great song that I suggest you listen to) began to play loud and clear, ringing through my ears and vibrating my hands while I held the speaker. Music is my charge, and dancing is my function. Not that my dancing is really that great. ‘Dance’, for me at least, consists of bobbing my head from side to side, rapidly slamming my fingers on tables and walls, and swaying back and forth. That’s probably why I only do this when I’m alone.
My friend once argued to me that we should be “true to ourselves” and act the same way around everyone and no one. Of course, I had to disagree. I can be ‘true to myself’ and still act differently in separate situations. I take pleasure in my solitary satisfactions. Actually, let me put this in perspective for you. The majority of human beings have vision, blurred or clear, and we can perceive light and see objects, motion, and color all through our eyes. Those without this luxury, those who are blind, cannot. If I were to somehow grant a blind woman the gift of sight, she would value vision much more than someone who had always been able to see. It’s the same here. I won’t dance to old music or wear pink and purple slippers around other people, so when I have the chance to do so, I’m enthusiastic about it. If I did it all of the time, dancing would have a much lesser value to me. Being a different person while I’m alone is something that I value.
Please feel free to dance strange dances or paint odd paintings or write curious writings or sing peculiar songs. Hey, just in case you’re still feeling insecure about your own abnormalities, here’s another erratic thing that I do: I have a blog.
Oddity of an Odyssey 