Being cleaver is not always easy, just like winning is not always fun. Ever since I was a child, I knew that I had been an outsider and that I will never fit into anyone's lives. For a very long time I had always imagined that there are two types of people
type 1) the normal people who don't know anything because they refused to use the evidence from what they see
and then there's type 2) the cleaver ones. Me. I am the only person is the whole world who fits into this category, which makes everyone else sheep.
I erase unnecessary information which just takes up precious memory held within my mental hard drive. Such as taking driving lessons. When I had been 19, I had had this mad craving to drive a car. I knew everything about cars before I had attended one driving lesson and completely ignored my driving instructor. I highly recommend doing this because the driving instructor who "taught" me didn't even know how to drive. She insisted that I drove less than 10 miles per hour in a 40 mile per hour zone. I tried this but it was SO boring! In the end I gave up any hope and used the knowledge that I had already known to drive at the speed of which I wanted to. Unfortunately, this resulted into me getting a ticket for speeding. Apparently I had been driving 90 miles per hour when on the motorway. After refusing to pay for some unknown damage of which I had not caused, I relocated into London, where I started looking for cheep accommodation.
As I may have already said (which I have), winning isn't always fun. However, when I first met my new flatmate, I immediately found myself looking at the world at a different perspective. My flatmate who is called John made me realise the people are far more amazing than what I had given them credit for. John would do anything for me and put me in front of his own priorities. At first, I thought that he was just doing this to get me to help to actually pay for the flat, but now; I'm starting to change my mind…
This is John's real personality. He is kind, loyal and trustworthy. He is my best friend, even though he does come back drunk at about two in the morning every now and then. This doesn't bother me, mainly because I don't understand why sleep is important. Even when John is drunk, injured, in pain or even asleep, he will be still help me in times of need. I didn't know why he did this, but I know now. This is the reason why I am writing this. Because for a very long time now I had always imagined that there are two types of people. But maybe there is another type group of people…
type 3) the ones who are beautiful. The ones who can cheer other people even when they are haunted with memories of their traumatic past. The ones who love other people more than they love themselves and will put others before them out of kindness. These people are dependable, even in times of need. People of trust and people who I love. And only one person could possibly fit into this category. My colleague. My friend.
John Watson.