/Sigh.
Why is it when we try our hardest to be what we aren't, we manage to become worse than we were to start with? You take a fairly tolerable quality, and try to suppress it; and it ends up becoming so bad to the point where anyone you tried to change for becomes utterly despondent and ends up loathing you for stupidity. I guess it proves that human beings really aren't capable of change. Not on any meaningful level, anyway. I know people would like to believe that their better halves, or friends, or family, or anyone they've ever wanted to change, are capable of the transformation into the ideal -- but it's never going to happen. People are who they are, and it's futile to try to change that. Who do we blame? Should people just accept other people, or should other people be more receptive to true change? I am a realist: I never expect to like everything about a person, but I'd like to think they could at least partly-adapt in order to get on with me, as I would do for them. Is that incredibly selfish? Fuck knows.
There are some obvious disparities between my friends and I. Some of them maintain that people are able to change totally, and that they should; whereas some of my other friends seem to believe that you should just accept people for who they are, and if you want to change them then you shouldn't be with them. None of them seem to be able to self-efface, though, because perspicacity is at an all time low, and egoism runs rampant throughout anyone in my generation. Any idea of self-reflection, or outer-body-empathy, is completely alien. That's sad I think. I really don't know where I stand -- which makes this entire rambling hill of a rant a bit of a waste of time, I suppose. Then again, you could probably justifiably accuse me of never writing anything with any merit. Perhaps I could change. Though I doubt that.
Maybe little changes eventually change into a personality shift? I mean, that dog trainer guy is always like "just dominate", and the people are always like "but I love him", and the dog is always like "give me this shit, bitch, woof". That seems to work eventually; but I don't really want to 'fix' people, because they don't need to be 'fixed'. Perhaps the answer is that the only person who needs to change is us -- that would be a grand irony for a Friday afternoon: in the quest for changing everyone else, we change ourselves. God, it sounds like some awful tag-line of a ten-a-penny chick release. That sentence should be backed by twenty middle-aged, weeping housewives; crying into dishclothes and bemoaning the state of humanity. Someone forgot to order the strings ensemble, obviously, because my pronouncement was audibly quiescent. Not cool. I need my announcements to be heralded with trumpets and other instruments that serve no other purpose than hailing a newly proclaimed king or something. Trumpet as metonymy for crowning. That would fun if all of life was metonymy. And by life, I mean Jack. That would be cool if Jack was metonymy. Haha. That's fun. Google it if you're unsure.
Speaking of things which amuse me when they shouldn't: nominative determinism. Now that's a hilarious concept. And not in the overly-complex way it is demonstrated on the BBC site. No, I'm talking about things like Mr. Bun the baker. Not... Mrs. Hypocrisy, the banker. None of that elitist, awful patois-driven nominative determinism -- give me juicy, understandable, hilariously stupid names for jobs. Perhaps I should change my name to Mr. Music. Or something. Wow, I am not very good at these. I was never very good at acronyms, or mnemonics, or anagrams, or anything that involves a brain-memory process.
Oh, apparently I have to go out now. I guess I'll ptulawcctaol.
(That's pick this up later and we can continue this at our leisure).
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I appear to have made some progress in terms of 'being less retarded', though I am unsure if I can keep us this streak of being a functioning human. I seem to lack the requisite parts I need in order to form and maintain decent, working relationships. Perhaps being what I like to call a 'social enigma' has finally run its course, and maybe I should make an attempt at normalcy. Then again, normality is so overrated and boring. This kind of self-propagated eccentricity might seem like a bit of a stretch to some people, but other people are so quick to label 'sociopath'. Or at least they would be if they were capable of understanding words and what they mean. I am far from becoming a sociopath. As far as I am aware, that's not even a medically accepted word anymore -- I seem to recall someone telling me that they have a new diagnosis for that kind of extreme autism. That irritates me that I can't remember the name for it. Almost as much as trying to remember what this concept is called: when you think something is true because it is associated with the memory you have encountered more often than anything else. You guess based on frequency of event, rather than actual factual basis. Can't for the life of me remember what that's called.
Anyone?
Maybe I have ADHD. If that was a real disorder.
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