...
There are lots of terms people use. High IQ. High EQ. Right brained. Crazy. Unstable. Delusional. But, despite the obvious enslavement to The Big Mistake, the utterly infantile ego, I think the best term for it is Free. People much less gifted are usually at first struck by the marvelous freedom from convention, the uniqueness of it, but soon begin to see it's much more profound than merely an entertaining face on an otherwise ordinary soul... and that isn't good.
At the very least they just tune you out, but too many are angry that you tricked them, you engaged their admiration and now you are nothing but a looming threat to the face they project to the world. Everything they sweep under the table is dangerously close to exposed. The gorgeously arranged little set of parameters within which they operate are in danger of... of being seen for what they are... of being right out there in broad daylight and... and not gorgeous at all. You are the enemy. You must not only disappear from their circle of consciousness, your ashes must be mixed with salt and lye and the urn sprinkled with holy water by guardian demons at regular intervals for the rest of time.
The actually free don't understand it. Not their own freedom, and not your flipping amazing denial of it/them. The actually free never did anything to free themselves, except if you count being born. The actually free are so threatening because their very existence ends up being that klieg lamp on everything you know in your darkest corners is wrong with you. Even if you could be honest enough with yourself enough to just yell, "Hey! Quit lighting up my ugly bits!" it would only vex the poor klieg lamp. The actually free were born that way. Their light is not distinct from, say, their femur bones.
You think they're trying to murder you when they are only trying to live with you... wanting to live with you... actually loving you... living for every bit more of the connection with you they can experience. Maybe I should call them the intransigently free. The innately free? The viscerally free? The accidentally free? The uncomprehendingly free?
Help me out here.
There are certain perfect machines born on this planet. They tend to look like everyone else. They are raised like everyone else... usually... mostly. They are almost always completely convinced they are like everyone else. So it becomes bewildering to say the least as they progress through their stages of development into adults... well... ugh... as they go from physical infancy to codgertude... because, as you can see so starkly here, they rarely progress out of infancy, no matter what stage of life their appearance heralds.
These perfect machines, born immovably free, have a real problem maturing. Nobody can help them with this. The world is for maturing herd animals and there are no role models or social norms that work on them... very few signposts from their true ancestors either. Most of them ended up drunk, or just immutably dead from their own weirdness... whether it was in counterpoint to their epic urges for connection or to their epic urges for solitude. They did not make it into an advanced old age that often, couldn't make anything indelible enough to model signposts for your way into real adulthood.
The ancients called this world "Endurance" and you're naught but a really annoying drama queen both splatting everybody with your tsunamic pain and your histrionic love on your compassless path from birth to death unless you will learn to unchain your freedom and stop emoting over the spilled milk of being born a perfect machine into a global cattle ranch, stop being a big baby about it, stop demanding exaltations for it, stop identifying with the cosmic travesty of it, stop being a goddam jackass with its head cut off and perform.
...
I will go for the long version now, even though it makes me mad. Despite him being so utterly unlike 86, this utterly heedless drama queen thing is too familiar. There is that same vivid wastage of really perfect attributes on display, and if I watch I can use it to do better.
