I once was a nice young man. I once was courteous without question, humble without reasoning, and innocent beyond normalcy. Truth be told, my life was enraptured in a perpetual cocoon of safety and security. I was never challenged, never questioned about my own aspirations, never seen as anything but “normal”. My virtue was to help every single person without fail, to go above and beyond to aid others before I even thought about working on the empty hollowness I felt inside growing up. I felt superficial, not real, a mere byproduct of my biological mother and father fucking each other and producing me as the outcome.
I won’t apologize for my crudeness. For you see, my parents loved each other so much, my father used to tell me when I was about seventeen years old, that he and my mom would “get it on” regularly. And I’m not shocked.
They were passionate lovers at one point, deeply passionate to the point of no return.
Now, it’s a different story. They’re divorced and the both of them live in two different states.
But surprisingly enough, I’ve come to relish in the unconventional quirks of life. I understand now that such traits of generosity and basic kindness truly are necessary to maintain the little hospitality that still exists in our society today. I’ve come to see now that society is necessary; life without it would be even more unimaginably difficult then it is already. But…perhaps I secretly want life to be a challenge. To see if we can make it in life and for how long is inherently a human feeling and thought process we all eventually come across in our own individual and personal lives.
Yes, I’m still cordial. I’m still nice to a degree. But what I’m not, is a pushover. I had a displeasing experience when I was nine years old that changed my perspective on the way I was going to live my life. I wanted to live in truth, not in deception or lies. Sufficient to say, the experience I had when I was a child changed everything about my view on life, and it was definitely for the better.
The experience itself is insignificant now, as ironic as that might sound. But the details of it truly do not matter now. Ultimately, the point I’m trying to make is this: this was the point in my young life when I had finally grown up.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m still nice and cordial to complete strangers.
But, instead of just lying to someone I know outright and pretending to like them, each and every person who is placed in my life over a period of time, knows one of two things. 1. That I truly do want to become acquaintances, friends, and allies with them. Or 2. That I want nothing to do with them. I’m not fake about it; I “tell” it like it is. If I don’t like somebody, there’s usually a reason as to why. I’ve yet to come across a person I disliked and was completely clueless as to why I didn’t like them. Because the truth is, we all sense each other’s soul. We all see through the facade of reality and fantasy. When we met a person, within the first ten minutes of meeting them, we already know if we like them or not.
It’s not rocket science; it’s just regular old biological science. We know who we are and we know whom we like as people. There’s no going around this fact. Unfortunately, it’s common sense knowledge for any adult to realize that if people always acted out in honesty; we would all live in a chaotic world… But don’t we live in a crazy world already? So what’s the point of being fake with people? To get ahead in life? Right, because I want to disregard my own self by being fake towards a person I clearly don’t like. I suppose if you’ve come this far in reading this, then you’ve certainly gained a new perspective on life.
Forever in Your Debt,