I've received a few accolades here and there lately; which is strange for me. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not often praised or complimented. People see me and they think I get it all of the time. I don't. It took dating for four years, cheating on each other twice (respectively) and living in different states for the love of my life to tell me I was the most handsome dude she'd ever seen in her life. And even then, I'm pretty sure she said it more out of consolation than ebullition of feeling.
Recently I was praised for my ability to reflect inwardly and change myself. Ha! If anyone even knew, really knew what it means to self-reflect. First you have to admit to yourself that there is something intrinsically wrong with you and then, with little detail or help from your peers, you must not only discern exactly what it is, but you must figure out exactly how you should be instead of how you are. I'm selfish? Okay. Why? I don't believe in the institutions of this world. I don't believe in the rules of conduct and social niceties created by my peers. I was brought up differently, but okay . . . I like you guys, so I'll change. But you can never change. That's something no one will tell you in high school or in a self-help book. No. That's something you have to face on your own, if you're lucky (or unlucky, depending). I'm obnoxious? Okay. Sure, I talk too much and I say inappropriate things at, apropos, even less appropriate times. Alright, I'll fix that, too. I'll change that, too. But you don't fix it. You don't change it. You cannot change yourself, you can only change how people see you. I've lived in this mind for over twenty years, if there ever needed repairing, shouldn't I have recognized it and did it anyway? But I changed just the same, at least as much as I could. And now I'm being praised for my uncanny ability to peer inward and fix the problems I find. Sorry, I sucked before, I guess. I was only being myself. It's cool to have friends now, I suppose. If only they were friends with me and not the person I'm trying to be for them. If only I didn't spend my entire waking existence apologizing for myself. I used to be proud of who I was. Now I feel boastful or conceited for having confidence because anytime I look in the mirror and smile there's a faceless, mute figure behind me threatening reproach.
Not all compliments are shit, though. Some are traps. I've always been susceptible to flattery, so when she told me I'm intelligent, I was all a-twitter. Thank god! What a terrible fear that follows me everywhere! "You sound like a pretentious fucking charlatan!" the fear says, "God, get over yourself." So when someone tells me I'm intelligent . . . someone who is, herself, intelligent - that means a lot. Then she said I have backbone. I'm an asshole, but it's okay because I have backbone and I'm smart. I'm sexist, but it's okay because I have backbone and I am a learning experience for the open-minded female. She said too much, unfortunately. Besides, I'm not sexist. I was raised by two women. I'm simply of subversive mind. I see women as the authoritative figures in my life; judge, jury, executioner. I hate women, sure, but that doesn't at all mean that I want to harm them, nor do I think they are less than me. Let them have it all. I'd prefer that. Give them and everyone else the right to do whatever they please whenever they please. Sure, it's easy to call a man sexist for being himself, but if you were a guy I'd think the same of you. Do I view women as objects? Absolutely. I view every being not of my ego as an object; it's impossible not to. Sure, I've got a higher capacity for empathy than most, but what is empathy really? You're merely projecting your assumptions on to someone else. I can't ever know for sure how the broad underneath of me is feeling, but I can assume things. Is that not sexist? Is there any not being sexist? I suppose celibacy wouldn't be sexist. You see, we're all animals. We can't ever, ever, ever, ever, ever forget that. We're all animals and all we do is mate, eat, sleep, shit, get bored and die; albeit not necessarily in that order, but that's the extent of our existence. Our minds are the ones to blame. Our minds created all of this bullshit melodrama with which we surround those basic activities. I could laugh in the face of Social Darwinists. Sure, evolution is real. Don't get me wrong, I'm totally on board for that. However, to even hint at humans being anywhere near the top of the ladder is a fucking joke. We jumped off the ladder thousands of years ago. The prehensile thumb was brilliant! It made us take leaps in the evolutionary journey, but whoever thought of the opposable voice was a fucking asshole. That voice inside your head that makes you scrutinize everything - fuck it! That voice that makes you want something so badly and then get bored with it the moment you finally have it - fuck it! We are nothing more than a digression in evolution, embarrassing and long over-staying our welcome.
I'm bored with this now. I need to eat and jerk off.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
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