You always here about those people who have some kind of incredible genetic problem and you think to yourself, "Wow, I'm so glad I'm not them," and then you continue on with your life. Because, after all, that is that person's life, not yours, so why should you worry about it? You're perfectly normal, after all.
Well, I was just like that. And sometimes I still am, if we're being honest with each other. But I'm not normal anymore. I mean, I never was, but I don't feel normal anymore. By human opinion, there's nothing wrong with me- in fact, you could consider my situation to be a good thing. But from a biological perspective, I'm a freak, the thing that our bodies tried to cover up. I'm not supposed to exist.
But I am possible. So I must have some kind of a purpose, right? I guess now all there is that's left to do is find out what it is.
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