the chosen one

My father always says it is a bad idea to leave any work unfinished, either assigned by others or self assigned. This finicky concept would add great leverage to anybody’s life. I never was a man of practice, but a person who until his last breath, tries to be one. THE ONE. Sounds familiar. Yes! As said in the matrix, I always wanted to be the chosen one. The power to think beyond the obvious with very things around us which are not so. I try to be uncommon with the common, which ultimately turns to be the most common thing I would ever imagine to do. Can I ever become the chosen one, is it true that we can become the chosen one only when we are different.

Should I stop breathing oxygen and switch to carbon dioxide, may be that would be more apt for me. Should my skin turn green and my eyes be gleaming yellow, bulging hands and bended legs, extraneous ears and sprouting teeth with dwindling lips around them, abrupt nose dangling like the hands of a wall clock. Does this make one different?
Oh Yaw! Definitely, why not. It would make one self a Beelzebub in the town which can scare even the ugliest of witches to run away to no mans land.

Or is it the visual aspect with green eyes which are as beautiful and slender as the leaves of green vintage oak, and a skin that can take the hands sliding down when someone pleases to touch. With gifted facial features and the radiance that it generates which can even make Dionysus your worst enemy and a ultimate female fantasy.

Does this make one different? No. Not to the wise multitude. So what can make one "different"? Is it about the physical appearance, scary/magnetic or is it all about the way one leads their life. Keanu reeves could stop the incoming bullets, could save lady love just by pulling a bullet from her body with bare hands!! And could fight with some uncountable number of baddies and our very own ballayya could send back the train and defying the laws of the nature. Can such playacts make one different or at least inspire a common being?

I slipped my kip supposing on this very little but subtle idea. I was looking for the answers until I met one person. Am sounding creepy-crawly and some mad lad out of a mental illness rehabilitation center. I beg not.

That gave way for insecurity and insanity in my mind. I alienated myself from the normal world. People were to think about my very in existence in this part of the world. Am I not worthy to live in this world? Am I programmed to be an alien in this inscrutable world? Will I end up a loser by throwing my weight around such insatiable ideas? Am I making a fool out of myself? Too many questions I suppose. It is height of stupidity, if one tries to extract answers for insane questions, when it is inherent. When somebody said “It’s all in the mind” he/she threw at us a ocean of ideas to think about when such a question arises. Bingo. It’s all in the mind my dear! I told myself.