One Thousand and One Pieces of the Puzzle

Remember puzzles? I used to love putting them together, you have a ton of pieces or perhaps 8 or 10 big pieces. You'd have to look at the angles, shapes, pictures and figure out which one goes where. I always found it easier to put all the edges together then work on the inside. Next then you know, the big picture begins to come into focus...slowly but surely. Finally, you are complete! You take a step back and take a look at the work you've accomplished but wait, on the corner of the table, in the middle of the floor, in the bottom of the box...there is one piece left. It's not an edge because there are no corners, you look at the puzzle to make sure that you haven't left a spot open...everything is filled up. Where on God's green earth did this piece come from? Piece number 11, 51, 101, 1001...an extra piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit anywhere. What the eff? "Ah well", you think to yourself, "...the puzzle is finished". You toss the odd ball puzzle piece in the trash and carry on with life. It was just an extra puzzle piece.
Well, apply that to life...what about those people that are like those puzzle pieces? What happens to them in society? Do people just toss them aside and move on with life because they are odd or stick out or don't particularly share the same views as a certain group of people? Well, here how it feels.
I have been away from my (2nd) home for 17 days, although it seems much longer...its really only been 17 days...2 wks and some change. I find myself writing and calling folks back home, thinking that life is so grand and so marvelous and that everything is going on without me there. Truth of the matter is, everything is pretty much the same. Granted, if someone is missing its very obvious but for the most part, everything remains the same.
The thought that "everything grand is happening" , for me mostly comes from being the extra piece of the puzzle. The place that I am in is restricted, not only physically but mentally to a certain extent. I suppose I feel it the most because I don't like to be boxed in. I walk around with my headphones on mostly jamming to the new India.Arie or Gaelle and I go away, in my mind. It feels as if I am suppose to be here physically but my spirit, my mind is on another plane...I am somewhere that I can't quite put a finger on. The more I drift, the more I feel out of place here. I am brought back by conversation...someone interrupts my groove with touch and go conversations.
I don't have a problem being that extra piece...I am used to marching to the beat of my own drum. People tend to doubt me on a regular basis, I Thank God for the armor that I've been blessed with. I just wonder why people don't get it...I wonder why it never ceases to amaze me when people do things rude, selfish, or insensitive. It never fails...everytime someone says something to me that is far left field or just down right shocking, I find myself calling a friend or writing about it. I suppose I expect from other people what I expect for myself...to be those extras pieces or at least attempt to understand people that are instead of judging.