On the Attraction of Intelligence for the Intelligent

    Undeniably, I was nothing as a child. Raped and re-raped of my innocence by numerous mutilations endured, I had reluctantly reduced myself to a hollow carapace of what a tiny human girl should rightfully be. I sought out nothing more than an escape from the events around me, so affectionately nicknamed “Hell”, while my dolls simulated my horrors before me.
    I resided detached from the world and beneficial friendships until the end of sixth grade at eleven, almost twelve years old. It was in middle school that I began to observe people outside my small circle of friends and came to the bold conclusion of them being more worthy of my time than those peered past. I realized that who I currently associated with with were individuals who meant nothing to me; our similarities ended at lacking comforting bodies. It was then, I began to understand, something unnamed and yet a part of me, sought like-minded characters of my species to ultimately benefit a greater something. But what?

    The bravery necessary for my leap of faith was terrifying outside of the reserving, excusing difficulties I purposely gave the plan for procrastination. What is a twelve year old supposed to do when they want to be with the “in crowd,” besides cower in closeted fear? After surveying from the sidelines for a time and coming to terms with my peers being ignorant of my plans, therefore rendering them unable to push me towards the next step, I tried what appeared to work for those in the same foot race to what everyone else just perceived as fame. I wore the expression I half-ignorantly admired on my sleeve with overly dramatic fashion. Once I had beaten through the barrier separating “them,” from “me,” it was obvious our mutual attraction didn’t have a single thing to do with a drop of our physical aspects.
    I didn’t comprehend what was going on then, and it’s unfortunate considering the lengths I went that could have been so much greater had they been guided. The pace I carried is miraculous in comparison with the few directions scribbled on my map.

    At twelve, I never came close to realizing why I stood behind a podium once a week. Given my twelve year old mentality, I’ll shamelessly admit I probably couldn’t appreciate the adults that gave it to me in the beginning. They supplied me with the platform I needed to wage my first war.
    I recall after speaking on the several occasions them approaching me and saying, ‘You belong there. You look like you’re meant to be behind the podium.’ It made absolutely zero sense as to why an adult offered me the stature, why my peers gathered in the wee hours of the morning before our school bell rung to respectfully listen to the loose ideas I had about our everything. This was CPC, my play-on of false realities. C. Philosophy Club was truly the existence that birthed my first era. It was my first taste of reigned power, I earned every lick I took and received of the infinitely deep crust thereafter. My self-comprehension freed me from ignorance and excuses. ‘We are the thing of shapes to come, your freedom’s not free and dumb.’ [‘mOBSCENE,’ Marilyn Manson]
    The seventh grade taught me a lot about myself and who I had the capability to become. What age does the Übermensch begin to annihilate themselves for the lifelong tightrope walk muddled with rebirth? Statistics aside, I had begun tearing away to reach my core and it clearly shone through on my body. My only wish is that it hadn’t taken me years to realize my dislikes weren’t going to eventually bleed out no matter how passively I took the torture applied.

    In all the instances following my first approach of “the intelligent people,” the folks I personally admired and interestingly enough held the title of the “popular crowd” in my city, it grew easier and easier to fit in with whatever new collection of intelligence I found. With understanding of the simplicity it required, I recognized the minimal effort required for me to slither in.
    This brings me to the conclusion that I’d like to believe intelligent people are attracted to each other by some invisible - to our effortless eyes - force. I’d imagine explanatory proof exists in our brains as to why this is, unless it is all just coincidence or over-analyzation, what have you. Were it never explainable by science, even without a concrete explanation within my lifetime, I would immediately brush it off with my crumbled concept of being placed in the universe with a destiny undecided by me. But it never fails, no matter where I end up or who I ‘admire’ – at this point I realize my admiration isn’t such at all anymore, instead, a predetermined air of wary respect for someone I assume is like-minded – the result is always the same – I become closest with those that everyone else loves to hate.