Odd request and strange questions

Why do people tell me the things they do? I’ve been troubled lately by the number of young people, kids mainly, complete strangers telling me things, secret things of themselves and I don’t know why. Or I get asked unexpected questions and strange request from the same. And I have to ask of me, what is it that I am projecting or is something else, is it something I’m sensing, and I what to know why?

Last Saturday night as an example I was asked of a young man if he could touch my beard, and asked why? A genderlly challenged girl, as it turns out, asked if I would dance with her partner and I asked myself why, then she watched in joy and danced with us both? ‘Hey man, what’s your name’, I hear this all the time. Or, ‘I hope to be as cool as you when I reach your age’, trust me I felt like saying, it doesn’t always feel that cool from this side, and by the time you reach my age there likely won’t be raves. Time changes things a great deal, what is cool most likely won’t be in a few years. You’ll see many changes as you grow and you change too so the things you like now might disgust you then, and you really can’t plan ahead but one thing should remain, hope I pray will endure. But then why would I want to bust this young mans bubble, he was after all, only trying to compliment this I, and I have to ask of me, why?

At least a dozen times a night I get asked or thanked for putting the party on but it was not this I. Constantly do I get approached and thanked but I know not why. Too often I swear I feel their pain or do see it in their eye, hell no, its dark on this side. And then those close to me, my dearest friends condemn me for being a pervert, insinuating it was I who preyed on the young and I want to know why?

But most of all I want to know why I must carry this burden alone, why can not some one understand my view, understand I am no different from them, I am only looking for a meaning, an acceptance and a love for the who am I. This is I and silently in the stillness and with solitude ever present it is only the company of constant awareness and at times, the temptation to cry. This is I and I would like to know why?


I am therefore I think