Take Offense to This

I was going to go to sleep. I'm physically exhausted, even though I did nothing but stay in recovery today from the night before. I sat on my little inflatable mattress, waiting for sleep to take me, and it still hasn't. There's a lot on my mind, you see. While I'm still all about the positive energy from the last blog post, there was something that went down today that has me just a little bit bothered. Long story short, I was trying to prove a point to someone, and they took it entirely the wrong way and they are now mad at me for it. I really don't mind this, as it happens a good bit. What bothers me is that this person wants me to take responsibility for something that I just can't bring myself to. I can take responsibility for what I've done, but not for who I am.

Anyways, that's not what brings on tonight's babbling. No... what I want to talk about tonight is a book called "All The King's Men." It was, essentially, one of the books that helped to open my eyes. Before reading this book, Moby Dick was, to me, a whale, and nothing more. Allegories were the things that crawled out of the sewers and ate your dog. Explicit motivation was taken at face value, and by golly, I liked it that way.

Not after this book.

It's been a while since I've read it, but from what I do remember, it was a kind of political thing about a guy running for some form of office in Louisiana. However, the book isn't really about this guy; it's more about one of his aides, a guy by the name of Jack Burden. He is an observer, and happens to be the narrator of the tale.

He watches things around him happen without feeling attached to them. He is what I like to call a "disinterested third party," where the events never connect with him. If someone were to try and kill him, he would examine their motivations for wanting to take a life without ever really registering the fact that was that close to being murdered. During the course of the book, he has to perform a deed which is not admirable and doesn't learn until afterwards what the result of that action would be on him.

I identified with that character. I very rarely identify with much of anything, fictional or otherwise. This very well could be the main obstacle in my way of being capable of connecting with others. Howard Roark from Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead" is one other such character. Charlie Kaufman from "Adaption," and Randall from the "Clerks" series is the only other one. Most of the time, I identify with the tortured souls that are the creators of these works rather than with the fictional characters that they painstakingly created.

I am, admittedly, a disinterested third party observer. I've pretty much managed to remove myself from the equation because I'm not a very interesting person. One of the things that I've noticed from various forms of conversation (God bless the digital age) that I've had is that people think that I write and say the things that I do because I am angry, or bitter. It has happened, sure, but mostly I write and say the things that I do because I find them either absolutely fascinating, or just downright hilarious.

Generally, there's no anger there; simply curiosity. When I see someone make a cryptic status update on Facebook, or write a particularly interesting blog post, or even do something like yammer on and on into their cell phone while driving a 3-ton death machine, I want to know why. What hidden motivation prompted them to do that? What was it about their day or conversation or whatever that made them react the way that they did? For what cause does someone abandon reason and debate in favor of name-calling and insults when someone counters their argument with logic? I look at these things because I find them interesting, not because I really feel particularly involved.

When it comes to dealing with my public image, I've experimented. It's been almost scientific in nature. I've tried ignoring people. I've tried reasoning with them. I've even tried - on multiple occasions - to piss them off on purpose. Not everything I have tried has been for the benefit of actually improving said public image. I want to know how this whole public image thing works. I want to poke it, prod it, make it squirm so that I can come up with theories and postulations about why people act the way that they do. That involves me personally and means little except when the experiments also start to interfere with the day to day operations of my life. When I can't find the time to write something - anything - or I watch my firewall blocking attempt after attempt of someone trying to hack my computer because they've developed a distaste for me without a mature approach to handling it - that's when I start to care.

A lot of the people who hate me take it personally. I understand it, to a degree, but I really can't say that I approve or agree with their actions. I've been watching people for a long time, and that little friend that we call "self-esteem" is a lot hardier than it lets on. Suck it up and move on. Seriously, what have I done to have people wish violence upon my person? Did I kill their dog? Did I wreck their car? Did I betray their trust? No... My arrogance, having been spawned from some sick sense of confidence and disconnection, just makes them feel bad about themselves. And you know what? I don't think that people like that very much.

I am smarter than you.

Did you feel that? That little kick in your gut? That's your self-esteem trying to protect you. No, I don't really think that - not even secretly to myself. If I did, I'd have lower expectations of those around me, and the world as a whole. Everybody expects everybody else to act with this thing called "Common Sense," so I'm not the only one that has high expectations for your behavior. However, when you're unwilling to live up to those expectations - either because you think you can't (more than likely not true), or because it is too much effort - then it hurts to be held to those standards.

Self-esteem is.... well, it's really amazing. I can't tell you how awesome it is. Without it, we'd be collectively really, really unstable. We'd probably all commit suicide the first time someone insulted our mother. It's a self-defense mechanism, and it saves your ass a lot more than it gets in the way. Don't be fooled, though; it can get in the way. It can create a sort of mental deadlock where you want to go in one direction, and your body doesn't want to. then your brain - another amazing thing - will fabricate some sort of fantasy roadblock that you accept. That roadblock, when it comes to the act of creation, is the biggest hurdle that you will ever climb. It's not even close to surpassing your own self-doubt.

Here's the part that you probably don't know: Self-esteem comes from different places on different people. That's right. We are not all created equal. For some people, their self-esteem is tied directly to having fun and doing interesting things. They do things such as write because it is an enjoyable hobby, perhaps one that they can share with their friends. They do it when they have the free time and it doesn't interfere with school or family or friends and so on. If they can write something that is good and it makes people happy, then great. If not? Oh, well.

That's not me. It wouldn't matter to me if this blog, or even the book that I'm writing, was the greatest one in the whole entire world if it wasn't made by conscious decision. Happy accidents are for study, not praise. It also doesn't matter what the final product looks like. It is the process of the creation that I care about. My self-esteem comes from the cause and relationship, and knowing how to use both for intelligent design. I am a teacher and a student, not a friend, and that is the type of relationship that I seek with other creators.

I sometimes forget that not everybody approaches the act of creation the same way. Ultimately, it's a good thing. The problem is when you start creating communities around the act of creating something. People like me are significantly out-numbered. I've already had several people tell me to "just chill" when it comes to this blog, because, to them, I'm just making entries into what really only amounts to a digital journal to people that don't really care. To me, it doesn't matter if it's this, a novel, balloon animals, or even ballistic missiles - I do it because the act of creation is a challenge that I seek and appreciate.

So, yeah. I'm guilty of starting stuff, sometimes, but I'll not take all the blame myself. I've just as often been some Pygmalian project of the writing community. How I should act. How I should think. How I should create. Why can't I be more like so and so? Why can't I find the joy in a community of like-minded souls?

Honestly, the answer is quite simple. It's because I'm not like them, and it is really a physical impossibility for me to ever be like them. I know a lot of people out there hate me with a passion, but still enjoy the things that I write and post for the world to see here in the Blue Nowhere. But those very same things that you despise about me are the same qualities that I use to not only create things, but do the things that I do routinely. You despise my being a stubborn buffoon, but I've fought tooth and nail to get my ideas and discussions recognized without being completely ostracized from polite society. You despise my seriousness, but it's what allows me to sit back and think critically about whatever situation that I find myself facing, and it's also what allows me to come up with whatever idea that puts the hair up my butt to sit down and start writing the things that you all say are really good.

I don't think that these facts have been lost or unappreciated by those who are blissfully unaware of what it's like to be this way. You despise my arrogance, but I really wouldn't have bothered if I didn't think I could do it better than most have, or at least bring some fresh, new discussions to the table. With that little arrogant thought driving me, I've made a pretty good go at it, and you know what? I'm not done yet. I'm actually so arrogant as to think that my writings and ramblings and raving and misbehavings and so on could be even more amazing than what they are now, and all that it requires is probably a little more thought and attention put into them. How arrogant is man that he thinks he creates as a god?

This is why I link my blog to as many people as I can. It's good, I think. It's good because I've taken those qualities which prevent me from connecting with other human beings and used them to create something amazing. I am human, just like you. I don't like lima beans or corn. I get the occasional pimple on my butt. I like looking at naked girls. I have chronic insomnia and a high risk of esophagus cancer due to my smoking habit and the fact that I have excessive reflux. Sometimes my bowel movements are irregular.

But, I write things like this blog, and their bowel movements are perfect. :)

Back to the Jack Burden thing. Back when I first read it, I probably should have listened to the point of the novel. By the end, he sort of wakes up and accepts his place in the puzzles of life - at the time, I wasn't ready for that, yet. I didn't understand everything then, and I honestly still don't. I want to keep watching. I want to keep reading between the lines while I still have the distance. Many think of this as a flaw, and I'm coming to understand why. I'm tired of living life like this, and I'm moving on. There's still some time left to enjoy the distance, and I intend to. But you know what? I really don't think I'm going to miss it as much as what I originally thought when it's finally gone.