Special chapter: How I feel

When I changed schools, the last thing my old teacher told me was that.

I was a genius.

My calligraphy was hopeless even after practicing and filling out several notebooks.

Apparently a hopeless handwriting is a kind of sign that my IQ is higher than usual.

That's why they always pressured me, apparently they wanted me to have a purpose, something to use that intelligence on.

But I didn't want anything.

I never wanted to help humanity or make my mark on the world.

What good is that to me?

I'm not even sure what there is after death, why would I want to lose my life on that?

And it's not like I can help in any way or they need it, there are a lot of scientists out there trying to stand out and to feel the recognition of others, people who really try hard and who are smarter than me.

Intelligent people are fragile, the moment they realize that there is someone smarter and better is devastating for them.

That includes me.

But I never claimed to be smarter than others, the most I did was tell them that they did not use their brain

My mind has no biases or barriers to stop it from wandering.

That is why I always get lost in my thoughts.

This is also why I can understand anything just by reading it once.

At first I didn't believe that I was a genius.

But when I wanted to learn English I ended up learning 1000 different words in just 2 days.

Even I was surprised by this, but it is as if it were a kind of state in which I can learn almost effortlessly and without my laziness attacking.

Is this having a purpose?

Is this how those who really want to help humanity feel? Is that why they always try so hard?

That was the only time something like that happened to me.

In my new school they didn't pressure me, nor did they ask me to draw perfect pictures to get a good grade.

It wasn't as good as my previous genius school, but it was relaxing.

It was what I needed, a break.

In that school I had several classmates that I almost considered friends.

One of them in particular was always sociable and lively, as well as always having a crazy new idea in his head.

He was one of those people that I always admired, a person with charisma who could make others happy.

I also had other colleagues who were just as freaky as me, as well as being very intelligent

We always discussed stupid things like: if Wolverine can cut steel like paper, then how can he scale stone walls?

In the end I always ended up winning, but I imagine it is because of my open mind.

They were good years, in which I was able to put my indifference and boredom to one side.

But everything has its end, high school ended and I had to go to university.

I always kept in touch with them, even though it wasn't as good as before.

I don't even know how I ended up in university as an orphan, I just know that one day the best university in my country told me that I had a scholarship there.

University is a place full of young adults, who are loaded with the desire to study and be someone in this life.

I didn't have those spirits, I just wanted the piece of paper they call a title and earn enough money to be lazy.

I always considered myself a quirk of the universe, I have almost all the talents, but I am too lazy to use them.

And that's how my life began in college, doing homework, learning by myself, nothing more.

What I didn't expect was news that shocked me.

A suicide.

From that classmate who always made others laugh in high school.

I remember the day I went to his funeral, it was quite a dark and silent day even though the sun was still shining.

I tried to relax the atmosphere by telling little jokes on the way.

But when it was time for the funeral, they all broke down and began to cry.

I couldn't feel anything at all.

I have no right to cry in this situation, that is something that only his family should do.

It's not that I'm hiding my feelings, it's just that there's nothing to show.

I could only remain silent while watching everyone cry.

That was the last time I saw my peers and what could be considered the last major event in my life.

The rest was just studying, working and nothing else.

But that event helped me understand that I can't read people completely, only part of them.

That's why I don't immediately withdraw from people I don't like, I always try to give them at least one chance.

I will never be able to understand how the thoughts and personality of a normal person work as a whole.

I don't even know if there is something I don't know about myself.

Or at least that's how I feel.