The February 21st Post may have been a little harsh... the whole revolution for the sake of revolution seems like a misplayed scenario. What do I do every day after all? I put people on planes. Take them off planes. Put them in overly priced hotels. Take them out of those hotels. Place them in seats. Make sure it's an aisle or your ass gets chewed off. Give them a car I couldn't afford to drive to wheel around in for a couple of days. Get them home to their wives. OR cats. Sometimes I can't get them home fast enough. Sometimes I want to tell them to go to hell, put on a plane to Bangladesh, maybe then they'll shut up. Sometimes I can't stand it. I went to college too. I just didn't master in business. Instead, I'm stuck with a crappy English degree. A lot of knowledge about the Romantic poets. Coleridge's dilaudinum habit. His tuberculosis. Etheridge Knight, Mass Media & Modern Culture. Reflections on the gender politics of the Gillette razor. I realize I was a person once. Maybe people even regarded me in a such a manner. I fight the powers that be, occasionally, but often lose. It's a tug-of-war throughout the week. My bosses--- there are two of them--- and they rarely come over and talk to me, haven't caught on to the fact that I can be downright argumentative in certain circumstances. I can't always get a grasp on what people are asking for, or what they're up to anyhow. So, I disagree with them. I think they're being childish or rude. Sometimes they are, but I've learn that big business motto, that the customer is always right. You're not supposed to argue period. My roommate tells me I have to learn to not give a f*#@k , something which only makes vague sense to me. What am I supposed to develop an indifference toward. Other people's words, their commands. What if you just don't know how to do what they're asking? What if you've entirely lost them in the syntax? There I go, being argumentative again. Just don't be a s:%thead and I'll mostly get along with you.
But it's not a winning attitude I've taken on. I've resorted to reading Buddhist reflections on Anger and Peaceful Acceptance. There seems to be great pain involved in that level of acceptance. Of giving up what you have learned or have interpreted for the truth, for some other plan that has been mapped out. People are getting away with that on a constant basis, I think. Just not giving in to the madness. Not taking it personally. Letting go of the self to discover the self, as priest I knew once said. It's the kind of thing so many people can give advice about, but yet so difficult to put into practice. Especially when you're not disposed to it. I love my old man dearly, but I learned a lot of behavior from practicing what he does, just blows an absolute gasket sometimes, cuts you up from the underside with a snide remark. It's in the genes, they say. Maybe. But there has to be a way to break the cycle.
I've taken to blogging this evening because I thought maybe it might make a difference, this cynicism that's grown into me like a cyst. That you shouldn't let people cut you up. I still don't think you should but how many people have I known and heard say how when you react, you let them win. It's never felt like a win just by being passive. They don't seem satisfied. I've even had people say, "are you still THERE?" which seems to suggest that they are attempting to drive me away, or rock me down to their level, where I say, son, you bet I'm still here, and by god, I'm entitled to be. Like that declaration alone will validate my existence. What a cobweb.
I'm going to work on it, because my former MO was to whimper and cry and overmedicate myself when I got home by playing video games all night in my room. Blotto myself. Rock the brain into a coma. But that doesn't work for me. Great, if it works for you. It's always been more in order to channel all this crap. Welcome to this Channel, thank you all, I'll be in town all week!