21
Nov
10

if i had the courage


I don’t think I’m not a chicken shit.  I won’t disrespect myself, either, by not admitting that through the years I have grown for the better in some measurable ways.  What or how it is measured will have to remain abstract I’m afraid, but I will whittle for this purpose and suggest that utilitarian ethics is most efficient and generically applicable: if I have “grown” within my own environment for the beautification of it rather than its degradation, I am a healthy growth.  I will note, though, that I have had to engage in some unhealthy events in order to correct my trajectory lest I block another’s sunlight.

To be fair, however, I am an exotic growth too.  There are two things when acting within my native environments that I love most, those two that drive my curiosity and passion for life.  They are holding up a proverbial mirror to show everyone what they look like from “here”, and purposely demonstrating anti-normal behavior to gauge reactions and examine the rationales behind them.  I’m highly limited in performing either function well, but it’s largely due to fear.  Some of that fear comes from instances where I caused another pain, however intentionally, and hated it.  Some of it comes from instances where another person incorrectly interpreted an action or statement (or simply lashed out unfairly from causes not mine), and spun the whole thing poisonous.

Pardon this dead horse’s carcass and my beating upon it, but it is frightening to assert your private self, but part of why it is so frightening is because our private self is so chaotic, and nobody talks about it, perpetuating the taboo.  Our innermost thoughts are likely referred to as such in reference to that very sense of a dark, chaotic mystery running behind all of our perceptible world’s events.  Sometimes our thoughts seem to come from nowhere, or are loud and provocative.  Sometimes, when spinning in idle, our minds seem to get bored and throw out something so bizarre it makes us look around to see if anyone else could tell what we were thinking.

Less tangentially, no matter how refined in behavior and social graces we become, we can expect to always experience nervousness or fear when acting in an uncontrolled environment, and this is because deep down we are all afraid of seeming wrong, unhealthy, or  weed-like.  Calling someone a leech is a delicately forceful insult because it gets to this same concern.  In order to sustain life and flourish, we must respect a natural balance between exploration and infrastructure, between strong communities and free radicals, between production, consumption and innovation.  A lot of us manage to accomplish this in maturity, and I suppose that is why reasonable adults tend to get a little quieter and more focused with age.

However, a lot of us do not manage this, and this creates a lot of room for misunderstanding.  This room for misunderstanding comes from fear of disproportionate reactions to ones actions.  Some of us are wired to leap out from the boxes we’re placed in, and in the coding of life this is to our benefit, because even when these leaps come in the form of deranged serial killers, these experiences help us to solidify certain moral principles across an array of life perspectives.

So, what is keeping me inside of my box right now is a fear of being labeled a heretic and being wildly misunderstood as an irreverent narcissist who does good now for the sake of a fan club later.  The box I’m wishing I could leap out of?  It’s the politically inactive introvert who gives public speeches in his head all day box.  I want desperately to come out yet holding the lid down myself.

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