Jounal of a random person

So yeah...

Life is pretty ironic sometimes, especially when it comes to being me.

After high school I became the black sheep of the family. I implemented a few things into my life that was.... well... different.

I was pretty much always a different person, but - it wasn't really a problem because I was in the "you will listen as long you are under my roof" zone. Because of it, my parents were quite comfy knowing that little Adrian will never be different. They went as far as saying that being different is "kak" (crap).

So 'living under their roof' left them pretty much blind to what was really going on. Sure there was the occasional complaints of  bad marks and my room being messy, but "Poof!", a few days later the irony of life would completely erase the memories that dubbed me "different".

Man, I tell you something; it was a blessing at times.

That thing called memory loss is just another word for 'Irony'.

The symptoms started in primary school. By symptoms, I mean being a goof. 

I started day dreaming at the most inappropriate times. I remember getting a tongue lashing by some chick that thought I was staring at her backside. What had really happened was that I merely rested the side of my head on my fist and continued to stare into the unknown. The lass just happened to stumble into my "Standby mode" line of sight. The candle was there, but wasn't burning. 'Course she turned around and had something to say.

I only really came too when I received a delightful punch through the face from the surprisingly strong girl.

Later on symptoms got stronger. I became a master of unintentional topic changing. like really, I mean I would be in a group of people talking about one thing and I would fade away to the other end of the universe and bring back with me the randomest of random. 

The one day I was sitting in math class and the teacher was on about Pythagoras and the meaning of x. Mid-sentence and to the teachers surprise, a kid in the back of the class happened to raise his hand. The teacher abruptly stopped what he was doing and asked what I wanted know...

"Sir, do you know Ché Guevara?" ...

 Yeah... Ché Guevara. That was me. I was so random that Douglas Addams had nothing on me.

By 12th year I had a solar system of things floating around me that screamed irony. I had gotten up to so random crap, but I still happened to be cloaked by mom and dad's roof. By the end of matric year this white little sheep seemed to be "50 shades of grey" darker. I was one heck of a force to recon with. A really random one, but a self knowing one at that.

 

When school finished I packed my bags, kicked down the front door and said hasta la vista to mom and dad's roof. With a deranged smile on my face I strutted down the road; ready show the world who Adrian is and what random can can become.

   

The first thing I did was something I wanted to do for years before I left high school. I became a vegetarian.

Right now is the moment when you start telling me how good bacon is and that according to your religion it's blasphemous to not eat meat (Yes, I have been told it's blasphemous).

I never did so before because it was a "kak" idea and because my dad is a conservative Boer Afrikaaner. It's all about Rice, meat and potatoes man. My dad is so Afrikaans that if he was any more so, he would be the color khaki. I'm not saying his skin would be khaki; he would be the actual color itself.

In the boer industry, you had to either be dead or not eating at all in order to not eat meat. Even the chickens got a nice serving of Ouma se potjie.

In the end, if you were a vegetarian, you were the village idiot.

The next thing that I did was express my views on religion, or rather the lack there of. Yep, I became an atheist. To some this is a real taboo topic; especially to an Afrikaaner. I think this is probably what pushed me off into the deep end. The roof was no longer there to cloak me and mom and dad started crapping themselves. At first they thought it was a phase that I was going through or a mid-midlife crisis (if that makes sense).

I went with my dad to enrol at a University and in the application it asked what religion I was. I enthusiastically responded with, "Atheist". My dad quickly shushed me and told me not to say that so loud. I think my grandmother was more shocked than anyone else. I stayed with her in the town of George for my final years of high school and every Wednesday and Sunday I skipped down our farm road and went to church. She would later learn I only went to church because of a girl I fancied. If my grandmother is however reading this, this is the later I mentioned a few sentances back. (love you granny)

My mom still thinks its a phase 5 years later.

Then I got a tattoo. not the huge and over powering kind. The kind of one that fits and has meaning to it. This is what made my dad give up and give in. His response was, "Oh great, he's got a tramp stamp." It brought tears to my eyes; the kind that you get from laughing really hard. I wasn't laughing because of what my dad had said, but because of the way he said it. My dad had accepted that a little different wasn't so "kak" at all. because of the few things I did differently, I had become someone who was unique. I was an individual.

I think that sometimes being a black sheep amongst white sheep is good. I like who I am and my family do too. I like being random too.

I always have something to talk about.