I was born with a head turned backwards. My dear mother, unable to withstand the sight of her distorted newly born baby, burst into tears. Her cry of despair could be heard throughout the hospital as the doctor, with a horrified expression on his face, informed her that it's not only my head, my all body is inverted.
Despite the fact that to an untrained eye my appearance seemed perfectly normal, my parents remained concerned. I spent my early childhood years going through a series of extensive medical examinations which sought an explanation for this bizarre phenomenon. It’s only when I turned six science has been able to determine beyond doubt that on top of the physical symptoms of my abnormality I'm suffering from a chronic twisted mind as well. A tragedy indeed.
Surely, later I’ve discovered that my rare condition had cursed me with a unique perspective which pointlessly questions any rational common belief. While all the other kids were trying to find shapes in the clouds, I was looking for shapes between the clouds. While all the other kids struggled to write in the lines, I practice writing between the lines. While all the other kids were piling fallen autumn leaves, I pondered whether the trees decide to dismiss their leaves or the leaves conspire to get rid of the trees. And in the course of time as we've all grown up, the others went to see psychologists, inappropriately I of course didn't - probably a privilege of the hopeless. In any case, I don't like psychologists; after they sew you back you can still see the stitches.
All in all I’ve managed to conduct a decent life, at least up to the point in which I've decided to write this blog. Though I see the dead end signs, in a way I feel compelled to go down the despicable corridors of my mind, knowing that all there is to find at their ends is either some kitschy form of vandalism or a long lost comedy.
So here I enter...