Soak a face towel in reasonably hot water and throw it over my face.
Play camp tunes in the lounge room and dance to them as if I’m doing a drag show.
Cut off the ‘lid’ to a meat pie and eat the meat inside before devouring the edible ‘bowl’.
Browse Facebook endlessly after a long day of work, just to deflate my bustling energy.
Play my favourite games and movies again, because I know that it has a good ending and I can live with that.
Ask myself questions and then answer them earnestly.
Subtly mouth songs I’m listening to while I’m out walking. And sometimes I dance with my hand alongside me.
Use iTunes on a Windows PC, because I appreciate the user interface but hate the collective Apple brand.
Buy unique aromas for my diffuser.
Share amazing sentences or paragraphs I find while reading to friends and family.
Throw my face under the showerhead and stand there for a full minute.
Lay lengthways on a couch, even if it can recline.
Buy apples only to watch most of them decompose in the fruit bowl.
Trace my eyes along an opposing train track, as if it’s a really fast monorail.
Use the word fag as a term of endearment for my close gay friends.
Walk through parklands to simply breathe in the greenery.
Turn on my diffuser before bed.
Weird is subjective. Just like you. Just like me. We all are weird in our own individualistic ways.
But the weird things we do are only weird when other people say it is. For us, it’s just a way of life. It’s what we do. It’s fun, it’s calming, it’s awfully quirky. It brings glee to our faces.
For them, it challenges. Your actions are apt to cause faces to fold into themselves. Grimaces and squirms and questions.
Enjoy weird. Revel in weird. Do it with confidence. Harness it and accept it. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
Because weird is wonderful beneath the surface.