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I think I am a genius sometimes with the way I write and how I feel so deeply
about things, but I know I’m not because I don’t know everything I’m supposed
to know, and I didn’t read the classics in school or understand all about
math, nor was I extremely good at playing the flute or piano, but I was a
great dancer and found out later that I had good meter so I could play drums
and keep a beat with a band with real musicians, but music may not always
count for what makes a genius and maybe I was meant to feel that being more
intellectual and less creative was the path to perfection so I tried, no,
did, go to college and then graduate school, and worked real hard at being
a nurse so I could prove to myself that I really was a genius, mind over
matter; now I could continue to write in this vein, but what does it matter
if I prove to be a genius or not for who in the end will really care, except
me?
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