The Except.
The path of the exceptional person is, by definition, the path of the exception.
The constant feeling of The Except is one of loneliness.
That’s how it feels. That’s how it always feels. That’s how it will always feel. The Except have gone past the point of trying to fight it. They know there’s no point. And, when they think deep enough about it, they like it better that way. Purposeful loneliness is always preferable to unintentional sheepdom. The loneliness is a sign to The Except. A sign they’re still on the path. A sign they’re still progressing. A sign that, despite the pain, they are moving towards the thing PAST the pain. A sign that they’re still living, breathing, growing.
Except, it’s all they know.
That’s why they are who they are. They don’t know how to be anything else. They don’t WANT to be anything else. Square pegs in round holes. Except fitting in with the Normies and Normas- those who don’t know, who don’t understand. The uninitiated will never understand The Except, and The Except will never understand the uninitiated.
Except I understand loneliness.
It’s not a state of isolation. It’s a state of being. A state of knowing that where you’re going is a place you can’t, by definition, take most people. Most people are not The Except. The Except go where the uninitiated fear to tread. They wade into the deep water. They inch towards The Darkness. Wherever they go, they know that, more than likely, they will have to go by themselves.
Except now loneliness drives most people mad.
They know the reason why most do not go where The Except go is because they can’t take it. They would drown in the deep water. They cannot tread for long. They are afraid of The Dark. And for good reason. The human mind is a fickle thing- weak, until it is strengthened. The only way that strengthening is done? By going where The Except go. That’s why they are The Except.
Except knows the signs of loneliness.
The sense of loneliness, the senses of The Except, are unbearable to most. Any extended time facing them, and most crack under the pressure. They fold. They succumb. They submit. They yield to the brutality of the expectations, of performance, of results. Of things needing to be done, and having the courage to do them. Of things needing to be said, and having the boldness to say them. Of things needing to be completed, and having the guts to complete them. Most never do, say, or complete anything.
But not The Except.
The Except not only know the senses of their Path, but embrace them. It is all they know, all they understand. Without them, they can’t breathe. They can’t understand the world. The only way they can survive is by doing what they were made to do. Lead. Guide. Push. Strain. Most cannot bear this type of load. They would wilt under the pressure. The mere senses of any sort of existential call or duty are enough to make most- the uninitiated- fall back into line.
But not The Except.
They know what loneliness sounds like. The whine of the AC- whirring, off and on, off and on. The creaks and moans of a house that one can only hear when they’re alone. The laughter of those outside, of the uninitiated, unburdened by the weight all of The Except have to carry. The sound of their own breathing, chewing, shuffling. The unrelenting taps of the keyboard, clicks of the mouse, unaccompanied by anything resembling encouragement or reinforcement.
Most can’t bear the sounds of loneliness.
But not The Except.
They know what loneliness smells like. The inside of their nostrils. The recycled, stale air that keeps circulating through the AC. Cold and warm temperatures smell differently, but still have a smell. The days-old air freshener that has begun to seep into the floorboards. Their own staleness comes from within their body that they breathe in and out, in and out. The sterilized cleanliness of their environment, one unstained from the world around them that would so get them off The Path.
Most can’t bear the smells of loneliness.
But not The Except.
They know what loneliness feels like. Wanting to turn over their shoulder and say something to someone, but never doing so- no one is there. The slow push of gravity from their head to their shoulders, compelling them to relent to its will. Wanting to reach out, but knowing that to do so could divert their destiny. The Except cannot afford distraction. They cannot afford to not feel lonely.
Most can’t bear the touch of loneliness.
But not The Except.
They know what loneliness tastes like. The inside of their mouth- always the same, day after day. The grace of a deep breath, knowing that nothing new through their lungs will refresh them. The microplastics of a prepped meal as they throw the same thing, yet again, into the microwave. The lip of their water bottle, still bearing the residue of weeks upon weeks of usage, of grind, of toil, each swig containing a memory of the day before.
Most can’t bear the tastes of loneliness.
But not The Except.
They know what loneliness looks like. The LED lights of a Macbook burn into their retinas, blinding them at a level deeper than most can see. The sight of an off-white wall, bare and undecorated by anything resembling a hospitable or loving home. The greens and blacks of the outside world, looking so enticing, and yet so unbearable. Faces, memories, personalities on their screens, but none appearing in real life.
Most can’t bear the sight of loneliness.
But not Except.
The Except understand that it is they who must bear the weight. They understand that it is they who must confront the world. They understand that, while the uninitiated mean well, they cannot do what they do. They cannot be The Except. The burdens for some are not the burdens for most. They cannot be. We are all called and wired differently. We all have roles. Our only duty is to find and embody them, to know who we are, and carry it- whatever it may be.
But that does not mean that the burden falls to everyone.
It falls to The Except.
Except accept the responsibility of a society’s future. They know that, without them, everything crumbles. Dies. Withers away. Decay happens when things are left unattended, when the corruption and vices of the world are allowed to seep into the things that are good, that are true, that are beautiful. It is a weight, one that must be foisted to avoid complete calamity.
That weight falls to them- to The Except.
The Except understands that weight, when lifted, serves to strengthen, not break. They know that they are the ones who must be strong. Weakness is a virtue for the uninitiated. But it cannot be for them. The weight must be carried. The weight must be lifted. It cannot carry and lift itself. It takes someone with the will to bear the burden to lift the weight of the world. It is a harrowing call, one that very few hear, and even fewer accept.
The exceptions are the ones who accept it.
That means loneliness will come. Most do not have the strength. Except I know this. They do not resent the uninitiated. They don’t pity them. They don’t hate them. But they do feel sorry for them. Lifting the weight, carrying the load, is the only way one can feel truly alive. If you’re not awake, you’re asleep. If you’re not alive, you’re dead. If you’re not The Except, you’re one of the uninitiated.
The Except cannot bear not being The Except.
Being one of The Except costs you things. In some respects, it costs you everything. Casual living. Unintentional life design. Binging Netflix. Sleeping in late. Going to bed later. Stuffing your face with calories made you. Feeding your mind with the poisons made to destroy you. Doing as you’re told. Staying in your lane. Shutting up. Obeying.
The Path of the exceptional person, of The Except, is one of the exceptions.
And, for the uninitiated, that weight is too much to bear.
Own the Day,
Sam