It's hard being different when we desire to be normal. Something about our manner seems stiff and formal, as if we're disconnected and detached. In being so, we are routinely misjudged because of how "we act." Yet if we were merely acting we wouldn't be so passionate about our course. But only those who are different themselves understand the divorce that keeps us from uniting with others against ourselves by choosing to ignore our dreams. Yet this is no consolation, especially when the desire casts us as difficult also. The ache that eats can only be eased by what eludes.