Nonconformity

I have always had issues with doing things the way everyone else does. It probably started even earlier, but i can remember as far back to the age of 5 or 6. We were riding the bus from Sinking Spring to (probably) Reading or the Berkshire Mall or maybe the VF Outlets to buy some velcroed sneakers or Lee brand jeans for my dad (our jeans were either handed-down or bought on employee discount at Sears). We must have sat towards the back because i remember having a clear view of the backs of everyone's heads. People sat dutifully in place, facing forward, quiet. Me, my sister and mom were probably pretty quiet too considering my mother's tendency towards that and our tendency to not want to piss off my mom by acting up.

I watched the backs of everyone's head as the bus bounded over potholes and around curvy roads. The bus went left—the people went left. The bus turned right—the people leaned right. The bus went over an especially deep pothole—the people's head jostled in uniform movement. It really bothered me. I can't remember if i had a sense of any order in the universe at that age despite my scary ponderings of what existed beyond the stars. Laying awake at night on my top bunk (my sister rolled around too much and would fall out of bed so had to be on the bottom bunk) i would try to imagine what was beyond the stars and then what was beyond that and beyond that and beyond that. Then i was feeling dizzy and crying and completely unable to fall to sleep. The vastness of the universe was too much for me.

Witnessing people's head dutifully falling into a uniform bus-moving pattern was too much for me as well. If the bus leaned left, i leaned right. If it went over a bump and people's head fell into a rhythm of movement, i would try my best to do the opposite of each of their movements, either by sitting perfectly still or yanking my neck and back counter to any natural force of nature. In the process, i'm sure i must have bonked heads with my sister or rammed into my mom's cool, freckley shoulder once or twice. They assisted in the process by not questioning my behavior or trying to correct me in my proper bus movements.

I still think about it now nearly every time i ride the bus. I still feel a little bit of annoyance that it really does make more sense to just allow myself to move the way the bus wants me to move me. I still want to pull an ever-expanding set of detachable puppet strings to keep everyone from moving the same way. "Break free!" i want to say, or wanted to say. "Loosen the shackles of this thing we call movement dynamics or physics or perpetual motion!". "Determine your own movements! Don't let anyone tell YOU how to move!".

It seemed to make more sense then. "Fools." i thought then. I assumed i had defined my individuality and personal power by fighting that which seemed inevitable.