Its hard being different from other people, let me tell you a story:

Once upon a time, there was an ugly duckling. The ugly duckling was different from everyone else, because the ugly duckling was a kite. One day the nest of the ducks was attacked by a murder of malicious crows. The weak ducks were not able to fly away, and merely quacked and wept. Everyone was caught. The little kite thinking itself a strange duck, didnt know how to fly and thus was also caught.

Then, the ducks were rescued by the king of the birds. It was a white hawk. Before you even knew it, the white hawk's dragon retainers had defeated the crows completly. The hawk and the kite looked like relatives. So from that time, the little kite met a friend and it knew it could fly.

The white hawk traveled the entire country exterminating the crows. It wasnt just dragons who followed him, but also the ducks and even some stray crows who had a change of heart.

The little kite was so proud! It alone could fly the same sky and feel the same breeze as the hawk. Something not even the harshest dragon nor weakest duck could do. But, one day, the queen of the ducks, who was the prisoner of the king of crows was rescued by the hawk. The timid ducks wanted to strengthen their bonds with the hawk.

The kite was not amused, it flew the same skies as the hawk. It could feel the same skies and so the sullen little kite thought that gazing at the sea might distract it. At the sea the little kite met a litte forest owl surrounded by seagulls and the little kite thought that even surrounded by so many seagulls, that little owl somehow looked lonely.

"I wonder if we could be friends". The owl was thinking the same...

-END

That person asked me too: "So, is there someone who understands your feelings traveling with you? You should go back to the person that's on your mind, to where the person that cares for you is."

I used to be alone, seeing things people cant see. Hearing sounds people cant hear. Just my world. Because it was different from theirs...

You know the answer... write a comment...

"Grown up all alone like the beasts of the field, not knowing even the warmth of parents, not dealing with the world of men. Thats why your heart is peeled open, not wrapped in any kind of shell. The feeling, that you are the refined artistic type. So much so that you cannot live in the common world. Because you know pain more intimately than everyone else. You will be the kindest of them all..."