Untitled Part 1

When I was younger, I thought there was something wrong with me. I used to
curse myself for incessant questions. The gut wrenching ones that
no-one could ever answer. I learnt to stop asking, well other people
at least. But never myself, because one day it dawned on me that
no-one else was asking, in fact I doubted if anyone was wondering at
all.

For some reason it only made me more determined to hold on to these
questions, as painful as they might be. In case someday I forgot and
found myself falling into the dark oblivion that is normality. I
think they separate me from everyone else. Because I can't be a
mindless cyborg like them.