The Burdens Of Genius
I quite often find it impossible to convey what I'm trying to say. I've thought of this obstacle often. Of what it means to others, of what it says and means about me. However, for those with not a fathom of sense, this being the strangest of all my personal inquiries, what does "my" problem mean about others that I'm communicating to?
I have no illusions of possession of an intelligence great enough to dicipher why I have such troubles. The only possession that I can lay claim to is that of a higher level of thinking than those around me. One not yet understood by even the most renowned psychologists. For it surely must be something too preposterous to be possible. "He's just a conceded idiot that knows not anything about anything.", some might say. "Filling one's own mind with such gloating reverse innuendoes must be a convient illness!", others might scornfully accuse in an attempt to steal my superiority.
However, I'm plaqued by the searing stares generated by the eyes of empty faced onlookers and deaf ears of my confused and delusional audience. Stares that voice questions of misunderstanding and ears that echo with my words like a hall of mirrors reflecting everything yet still retaining no image of the visitor once he departs. Is this not proof enough of my pioneering mind?
Only one explanation can be presumed, no actualized! It is that I possess an intelligence too great to be comprehended by my incompetent surroundings, by these blundering dolts pre-dubbed "my fellow man". Yet no matter how great my intelligence I lack the skill to communicate with a lower life form. How can I make them understand that it is they who are wrong? I'm not unintelligble or ignorant in the ways of social behavior. It is them who cannot reach a new level in their development of mind. This could prove quite a chore, quite a consuming chore indeed. Oh, I think..........I think I'll just kill everyone.
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