Imperfect I

It seems like it has been my entire life that I fumbled with awkwardness around others. I always admired those put together delicately ,the people who always got their necks clean and hair perfectly in place. I have always been different ,carefree ,clumsy, an original stain, a blemish in their world of perfection. I never could exist in their world however, no matter how I could try and conform physically , my mental state always threw people aloof. I am not a prozac american, I hardly feel like an American citizen at times. My eyes tear up when I think of how my grandfather so bravely fought for the freedom of European nations but thought he was fighting for ours. My father is a forgotten soldier forced to serve his prepubescent years. There won't be any doctors in my family but me if I can make it,would I stay clumsy and educated or will I become articulate ,poised and brainwashed. I guess its up to the medications.