Defiance

I haven't had much to say lately. I'm not sure why I find that so surprising...usually I can't shut up. The powers that be must have installed that muzzle they've been threatening me with. Or something. So I suppose tonight's topic will be my overall frustration with humanity. For those of you that don't know me, and for those of you who simply haven't figured it out yet, I have a strenuous time liking people. Call it discriminating tastes, or anti-social tendencies, the result is the same: there are very few people in this world that I can tolerate. And it's not that I think myself better than everyone else....that's not always the case, anyway :P...I think it just has to do with my strong knowledge of my likes and dislikes, and unfortunately, most people embody that which I vehemently dislike. So feel blessed, those of you I call my friends. Ok, now I REALLY sound full of myself. I understand full well that I, like everyone else, am ultimately a gnat in the grand scheme of the cosmos. But I've never fit in, nor wanted to for that matter. I'm not one to follow the herd, for want of a better euphemism, and for that I am routinely ostracized and generally gawked at. So I'm nearly 30 and still enjoy acting like I'm 5. And? Maybe I don't see any value in becoming a repressed, overly stuffy and "responsible" stereotypical adult that dear old mom constantly reminds me I should be. I have no interest in wearing the mantle of society's view of the average adult. I am, after all, far from average: that much I know. And why should I repress my fun-loving mean streak, just because it might scar a few children? Take, for example, one of my naughty little Christmastime fantasies of running through the line of kids waiting to get into you-know-who's lap and shouting "Santa's not real, kids! Your parents are liars!" just to see how parents would react...would they tell their children the truth? (On a side note, I told my therapist this, and he thought it was hilarious...is he as twisted as I am?) I don't know why, but I've always relished in making people feel uncomfortable. Perhaps I'm a tension whore, but it's fun to watch people squirm when they have to acknowledge the truth in one form or another. I guess it just stems from a hatred of dishonesty...and I'm not just talking about the blatant lies people tell for one reason or another...I'm talking about the more subtle and insidious lies we often tell ourselves as a coping mechanism. I guess I don't understand how so many people can work so hard to deny themselves the truth just to avoid a little pain...so they can continue living in their pastoral realms of sugar-coated...everything. And all the while they live one big grandiose lie. It's sad, really, and I've therefore committed myself to living for the truth, whatever the cost. I'm done trying to be what others expect me to be, of withholding my true feelings in order to spare another's. I'll say what I will, and if you disagree or don't like it, you can take a flying fuck at the moon. God I love Vonnegut. So there you have it, folks, tonight's cerebral vomit. Please exit to the right.