I have been intolerably unfair to some people in my life. For better or worse, most of those people seem to have been those who have my best intentions at heart. I am being unfair s I write this, out of a combination of emotional exhaustion, and selfishness.

Why is this?

Maybe because to see what I really need or want, someone needs to be close enough to hurt me. I’ve been hurt enough that I don’t want it anymore. I’ve got enough scrapes on my hull, at a relatively young age, that at this point, I think I’d rather not brave the shoals for profit, because their might be reefs. I’ve chalked up every encounter I’ve had twisting my life to someone else’s as a bad scrape. When the fuck do you just pull the boat off the surf?

There always seem to be fucking reefs. Coral takes thousands of years to grow, and months for us to kill, but it has definitely spilt its share of unwary blood over the years.

Since I was very young, I’ve seen what I can do as a catalyst. I am not the strong personality that everyone knows and loves. I am the one that finds the cracks and patches them, or bounces off the myriads of hopes, dreams, and fantasies that people carry around like brightly colored scarves in the winter. I amplify them – I question people’s bases. Not in any attempt to twist them to my way of thinking, but rather to just change the way that they think. I am a fixer, a problem solver, and an insight grabber. I insinuate myself. I skulk in the side door, I don’t ring the bell, or use the front door, If I am using the front door, it is because I want to see who slips out the side door while someone is answering the front door.

I overcommuinicate. I can find the high and low ground pretty fast in a conversation or a group dynamic. I can think on my feet. My appearance, my clothes – they are a test in other people’s interactivity. I could meld, or stand out – I have done both to both extremes over the years. I try to stand out without standing out, and see what people make of me. Catching people off guard is easier when they expect one thing visually, and get another conversationally. I have built myself, worked myself, honed myself with all the aspects of my personality bent towards being something that I am not.

My family has seen this time and again. I am a black sheep in the home flock. Not that I am an unloved sheep, but I just don’t fit any of the molds in the closet. I am not exactly viewed as flawed for that, but I am certainly left out of some things as a result of it. They do love me, but on their terms. What I am is not what they want me to be, or think that I could be. Individually or on a whole, the biological entities tied to me by blood or birth have never really delved past the hull in well over a decade.

I’ve done a lot of soul-searching recently. What I am finding is not the best. Hamlet’s musing on slings and arrows, and what dreams may come beyond the departure of our state – I’ve had that soliloquy running nightly for what seems like forever, what is really just weeks. I don’t even believe in souls, not in a conventional sense. There are too many questions about the nature of reality, or the reality of reality to make suppositions about a level beyond it.

What I find is a scaffold without a building. I am fantastic working with structure, but am not structure myself. When I am not put to use correctly, I am lying in commercial space somewhere. I always try to bring out the strengths in people. It is part of my code, since the times where I tried to take advantage of the weaknesses. That leaves me in an awkward moral position in a culture and time that largely believes weaknesses are to be treated or exploited, but never cured.

wimp. wimp.

na na na na na na na na.