If there is anything I definitely ever wanted to be, I'd have given anything to be, it would be intelligence. Such a great power which comes in all different variants and forms, most important of which is the variant of being intelligently able to use whatever amount of intelligence you have, the most rarely encountered variant that is.
Now, what I mean here is not the "I'm really brilliant at maths" intelligence. I mean the originality intelligence. The inability to have a commonplace thought, to utter a commonplace word, to undertake a commonplace action. You see, that's a most guaranteed way to die young. With all the ridiculousness generally acknowledged as commonsense taking place around us everywhere, the sort of people I've just mentioned would definitely suffer all sorts of cardiovascular diseases. So, in short, my definition of intelligence would be originality, and my definition of originality would be a short life of a shooting high blood pressure.
But these are only the regular originals, they fade quickly, they fail to adjust.
An intelligent original would know how to adjust to the world and coexist. The world frustrates them but they know how to keep their frustration away from the surface. You would find them extremely quiet or extremely sarcastic. What better ways to coexist with ridiculousness other than laughing it out all through or simply looking the other way? I don't think I know.
Then there are the stupid originals who cross the line. They are very much aware of their own originality, which is not something awful except for the fact that they over do it. They despise people, look down on them and turn eventually into perfect jerks who think they have a divine right to consider others as perfect fools and treat them as mere marionettes.
The interesting part is that all three types have a common tendency that deserves to be marveled at towards crashing their lives into the nearest cement wall . They usually commit an outside the box insanity that blows everything up. All that trying new things and despising the nice old safe ridiculous ways don't always end very well. There is a reason why the world is full of happy commonplace people, and that is that the others don't survive themselves. Just take a look at Raskolnikov from Crime and Punishment or Isabel from The portrait of a Lady and you'll get what I mean.
Me and a couple of my friends have been dying lately to meet any of the middle type (since jerks and dead people are everywhere nowadays). We've come to the conviction that they are a rare, almost extinct breed . May be the problem isn't that they don't exist anymore, it's that there isn't any more original thoughts, words or actions. Everything has been thought of before, has been done before, has been said before.
On a second thought though, I don't think I want to be original anymore. Looks like it ends by sudden death, oppressed frustration or being a jerk. With being a jerk the most appealing option on the list, I think I'd rather be contented with being who I am, the simple commonplace girl from med school.
Now, isn't that a relief? I've written complete nonsense and got to be finally contented with myself. One couldn't ask for more.
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