I think I've accepted the fact that I'm eccentric, that I just function differently the way other people function - with a different ethos and different needs, different requirements for happiness. And that's fine, because there is a way to be good at being eccentric - as in, there is a way to be different without feeling like you've completely failed at life - and then there's just failing to grasp at anything.
I think I've tried being 'normal' for too many years of my life - failing badly at it, and being utterly miserable at the same time. So there is nothing to do but to throw up arms and figure out a sort of system where I can still be happy.
But maybe, once in a while, life decides to lift the veil and show me how badly I'm failing to grasp at anything. That what I thought was a relatively stable platform was non-existent, and I'm actually in a sort of fall that I'm not completely aware of, occasionally trying to grasp at something.
It gives me a sort of nervous, desperate lump in the throat when I realise this eccentricity is badly taken by someone one has an innate desire to feel accepted by. That I've utterly failed at everything, that everything must fall.

What is the point behind this long, meandering journey?