Were to begin. I suppose this is the place for conceit. So here it is.
I was about 8 or 9 when I figured out that I was the smartest person I knew. I’m sure all kids feel this way. I was 12 when it was confirmed. But 38 when I found out.
I was diagnosed with a condition. A curse of sorts. IQ 135. At age 12.
I noticed a certain distance between myself and other folks around me. I didn’t understand why exactly.
I can relate the experience in some way to metabolism. Mine is fast. People often express envy. It is unwise to do so. There are unforeseen consequences.
I have been depressed for most of the life that I remember. The memory has never been good. Now I finally think I know why.
I was raised to be strong. I became hard. I broke. Again. And again.
Fire is not evil. Fire burns. Fire renews. Fire breathes. Fire lives.
Why do we fall down, Master Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves back up.