You always felt different. You always knew there was something about you, some kind of natural alteration of the matrix or of the desperate flow of information within. It shaped your complete and entire being as to be the odd one out since you were born, which is totally opposite to feeling of being he special one. Being the special one is for kids or for important people, not my point of inflection right now.

Almost in every social situation, even while you were sleeping you needed some time extra to recover from such a stormy journey. But, what social interaction can you develop while you sleep? It’s not so obvious; it’s just different, but affects every single soul. Every dream is a pure reflection of the infinite contact with your unconscious (or was it sub-conscious?, who cares about the difference anyway) which is due in some sort of parallel dimension, where all your trendy hormones, vast experiences with the others, twisted brain cells and stupid dilemmas just can be explained by one word: weirdness. Realizing your own weirdness within, even in a sub-conscious level, is the first step of a long path ahead. It is quite an “achievement” though and you can only do it with the others and because of the others.

There is no weirdness in God, because “he” is unique (Did you notice he is a he and not a she?, not even a we, how dodgy no?). There is no weirdness in uniqueness, simply because there is no benchmark. Perhaps that’s why many of us idolize just a few of us with exceptional qualities, like football players or top models, because there is no weirdness in uniqueness. Perhaps that’s why He, the pope and hundreds of others in many spheres of human life are “hes”, because men are unique?.

So your whole life you feel like there must be something else, you try to embrace your own specie by travelling, attending several kinds of activities and groups, doing group sports, yoga, joining the scouts, going to church and even applying to University. You are passionately looking for this eternal feeling of actually “belonging” to somebody or to something. Also looking for a way to fulfill, or at least dominate, your weirdness.

One of the very first times you go out to “the real world” is when your parents bring you to church. You are not 100% there, because you are still living in your child paranormal world (don’t mean to disregard with contempt that beautiful stage of our lives, more the opposite). So after a while, you start realizing how scary and ugly are all those rainbowish windows and how demoniac are those statues of some John Doe bleeding attached to a cross. You, with 8, 9 or whatever years old, start thinking and as far as you go on, you don’t completely understand what’s happening there. And you begin asking yourself, after you hear long talks about poverty: what the heck is that guy talking about? He is 120 kilos, he has something to eat every morning.

You really end to realize that all those people are quite different to you, therefore “completely weird”. Suddenly, the most beautiful thought comes to you, from heaven: “Oh dear, there is a bunch of wrong people here, I’d better escape from this group of crazy people”.

You are older now and you have a better discernment. Or that’s what you think. So you just decide to find the right place for the wrong people, people like you, where you imagine you could belong to. So you sign up and your membership starts.