To whom it may concern

Weird people and a murderous 2 year old

I like weird people. They make the world a more interesting place.

People, who despite everyone telling them to stop, search for the  barriers of this world and tear them to shreds.

I like weird people, I like dreamers.
And I proudly say that I am one of them.
This is the one egoistic act I choose, counting myself to the dreamers.

While as adults probably the most interesting and fascinating people you will ever meet, childhood is a whole different cup of tea. Hell, a whole different beverage.

My parents recently told me old stories about me as a kid.
And in hindsight I am surprised they didn't drag me to a psychologist.
The two stories that stood out to me both happened around the time I was 2 years old.

The first one happened after I developed an obsession with an old pirate movie from the 50s. I don't think anyone now has ever heard of it, but it is called „the crimson pirate" it got released in 1952 and Burt Lancester, one of the stars of the golden age of Hollywood, played the main part of captain Vallo.
It's a really good movie and I still to this day enjoy watching it from time to time.

Anyway, it may not be the kind of movie you want your 2 year old kid to watch. I was so obsessed with the movie I stared to act out scenes of it with my lego and playmobil figurines.
To paint the scene, imagine walking into the living room and seeing your 2 year old say „we have a rope, and a guilty man!" and then said kid proceeds to hang the figure with an elastic band.

Yeah... that was the moment my parents decided I shouldn't watch the movie anymore.
But apart from hanging my poor toys I was a very pacifistic kid.

The other story isn't as murderous, but the same summer I went on holidays with my family and to shut 2 year old me up they had coloring books and a watercolor set with them.
And small me had a favorite color.
And every. Single. Page. Of my coloring book was full with this one color.
Yes, it was black.

Now black alone might not be that unusual, however, that was also the time I was obsessed with ghosts.
So what I did was I drew black ghosts all over my sketchbook. At two years old.
Black screaming monsters, ghosts.
Basically the stuff the creepy kid in horror movies does.

My mum remembers that while I was doing that a random lady came up to us, took a look at what I was doing, turned to my mum and just said, „you should take your child to a psychologist!" and then just left.

That's me, making strangers question my sanity at two years.
I don't think my mum had the heart to tell her that just weeks before I was trying to murder my toys.
Can't blame her.

Anyways I doubt that other weird people had the same stories about their early childhood, but I do believe that around the time we all started school we started to walk down the same path.

Now I was never a popular kid in school. I mean I had my 3 close friends, but I was never popular.
I just kind of existed.
In primary school (the school you go to from age 6 to 10) I had 3 close friends, we are no longer in contact, happens.

When it came to middle school (ages 10 to  14) I had a lot of friends by my standards. People I also no longer consider friends as they made my life a living hell in the last year of middle school.

In highschool I finally had people in my life that got me.
(Not going into too much detail as of now, because I don't want people that know me to find this)

But being weird in school isn't easy.
In the media the underdog always gets portrayed as the silent hero who gets superpowers. But this isn't a tv show or a book. This is the real life.
And for anyone still in school who also classifies themselves as a weird person. A dreamer.

I can just say it gets better. I already graduated from highschool some time ago and while it took me some time I can truly say, life after school gets better.
You will find your people,
You will find yourself
And you will notice that you are probably weirder than you thought you were.