On Insanity
I think the only time I've ever really good at writing anything is when I'm totally pissed off. The good news is I'm pissed off ALOT. I try to be witty and cool and together, but really I'm just an idiot with anger management issues. To be honest, most of my anger is misdirected and really just a defense mechanism. I got picked on a lot when I was a kid and it used to make me so mad that other people could hurt my feelings so badly that I spent quite a bit of my childhood chasing other kids around with rocks, wondering why they didn't like me even as I tried to bash their brains out.
I'd like to say I grew out of my insanity; that as I matured, a more rational, compassionate aspect of my personality flowered into dominance, leaving me a well-adjusted and caring man.
But, no. That didn't happen.
I just kept getting more and more pissed off. Even as the insults stopped and the other kids became drawn to my dark and sadistic brand of humor, I still could find myself in the middle of a blind rage over the tiniest perceived slight. In short, I was, and continue to be, a huge baby.
Weird.
I really didn't see myself turning out like this. I mean, I don't chase people around with rocks anymore and I haven't thought about murdering anyone in, oh, I don't know, 5 or 6 years, but there's still this whole thing I have with "cool" people and how much I hate them. This can be a real challenge here in New York City.
Lots of stupid people think they're so cool here. And, believe it or not, this place can be a regular cauldron of rage. The good news about this joint is that I'm really good at tuning shit out. The bad news is I work in show business and it's absolutely packed to the rafters with assholes who think they're "cool."
I tend to exaggerate things in my head (because I'm fucking crazy) and I can still go off about most anything. MG bears the brunt of this (I swear, I'm like a bad movie of the week sometimes - Dwight Yoakam would play me...) but she's learned that, like a child, my bawl is much worse than my brawl and tends to ignore me most of the time and forgive me later when ignoring me proves too difficult.
Like, today, for instance. I was absolutely convinced that this chick I work with was talking shit about me. She's 22, fresh out of college, thinks she owns the place, there's no one smarter, she should be the boss - you know the type. I got on IM with the other crusty burnout I work with and launched into an extended tirade (which, regretfully, cannot be reproduced here because we both had to close our chat windows at the same time) about what a fucking stuck-up bitch she was and how dare she and I've got more smarts in the corns in my shit than she's got in her whole head, etc., etc., ad nauseum. My buddy doesn't say anything this whole time. He's just reading along, a smile playing out slowly on his face. Finally, I'm like, "What, dude? What's so fucking funny?"
"You, man. You're crazy."
"Yeah, and your point is..."
"She wasn't even talking about you. She was talking about something totally different. She likes you."
Shit.
"Really?"
"Yeah, man. She was telling the bosses how great she thinks you are."
Fuck.
"But... that's still some funny shit. You should try writing it down."
So yeah, then I feel all bad and shit, ashamed for being such a baby and assuming everything's about me. I walk around with my tail between my legs until I realize no one knows what the fuck's going on because I didn't say anything to anyone and why am I having this dialogue in my head oh yeah because I'm fucking insane. Yeah, that's pretty much my MO.
I'd like to say I grew out of my insanity; that as I matured, a more rational, compassionate aspect of my personality flowered into dominance, leaving me a well-adjusted and caring man.
But, no. That didn't happen.
I just kept getting more and more pissed off. Even as the insults stopped and the other kids became drawn to my dark and sadistic brand of humor, I still could find myself in the middle of a blind rage over the tiniest perceived slight. In short, I was, and continue to be, a huge baby.
Weird.
I really didn't see myself turning out like this. I mean, I don't chase people around with rocks anymore and I haven't thought about murdering anyone in, oh, I don't know, 5 or 6 years, but there's still this whole thing I have with "cool" people and how much I hate them. This can be a real challenge here in New York City.
Lots of stupid people think they're so cool here. And, believe it or not, this place can be a regular cauldron of rage. The good news about this joint is that I'm really good at tuning shit out. The bad news is I work in show business and it's absolutely packed to the rafters with assholes who think they're "cool."
I tend to exaggerate things in my head (because I'm fucking crazy) and I can still go off about most anything. MG bears the brunt of this (I swear, I'm like a bad movie of the week sometimes - Dwight Yoakam would play me...) but she's learned that, like a child, my bawl is much worse than my brawl and tends to ignore me most of the time and forgive me later when ignoring me proves too difficult.
Like, today, for instance. I was absolutely convinced that this chick I work with was talking shit about me. She's 22, fresh out of college, thinks she owns the place, there's no one smarter, she should be the boss - you know the type. I got on IM with the other crusty burnout I work with and launched into an extended tirade (which, regretfully, cannot be reproduced here because we both had to close our chat windows at the same time) about what a fucking stuck-up bitch she was and how dare she and I've got more smarts in the corns in my shit than she's got in her whole head, etc., etc., ad nauseum. My buddy doesn't say anything this whole time. He's just reading along, a smile playing out slowly on his face. Finally, I'm like, "What, dude? What's so fucking funny?"
"You, man. You're crazy."
"Yeah, and your point is..."
"She wasn't even talking about you. She was talking about something totally different. She likes you."
Shit.
"Really?"
"Yeah, man. She was telling the bosses how great she thinks you are."
Fuck.
"But... that's still some funny shit. You should try writing it down."
So yeah, then I feel all bad and shit, ashamed for being such a baby and assuming everything's about me. I walk around with my tail between my legs until I realize no one knows what the fuck's going on because I didn't say anything to anyone and why am I having this dialogue in my head oh yeah because I'm fucking insane. Yeah, that's pretty much my MO.
posted by Guts at 6:17 PM
1 Comments:
hard to say if that's environmental. i grew up coddled and protected in a Normy Rockwellish idyllic home. middle-a-the-road middle-a-the-middle-class-middlehooded middle-a-nowhere middleville. pick the median income, the EXACT number of whatever it was, that's what we were pulling in. Pick the most average hovel in the country, that's where I was. pick the sweetest nicest carringest parents on the planet, that's mom and dad. no beltings, no beatings, no sneaking off to do bad illegal shit. only started developing problems when the hormons really got going good by 17, even then mom wanted to talk everything through, but you know, at 17 you're not supposed to be reasonable anymore, so things got contentious there yeah, but I was out of the house pretty soon.
my issues developed fast and real and hard when I realized, all of a handful of hours out of the warm safe parental womb.... that the world, life, reality....... was FUCKED. all of the achievement-reward / misstep-punishment crap that had applied rigorously through 18 years of growing up went riiiiiiiight out the fucking window. Holy FUCK what a devious shit planet was I living on and how did I not catch on to this shit for 18 years? Where the fuck had I BEEN? What fucking PLANET had I been hiding on? I still can't explain it. I probably still am just a big dumb angry jackass who can never make sense out of anything and that's where I'm at. Trying to make sense of complete pointlessness.
so that's how that all fell apart rather quickly. man oh man, you should have been there the first time I came home from the army on leave. mom, dad, my two brothers. lasagna. my mom made lasagna for me. my absolute favorite dish. my mom's lasagna. goddamned unbelievable how she melts it all together, the tomatoes shrooms cheeses meats sauces....... it's paradise. if it had whiskey in it I'd drink it from a mug. that stuff is unbelievable. anyhow, I was losing weight through basic. no time to eat. they'd rush us through the chowhall so fast you had like two minutes to eat. two minutes. try it sometime. so over the course of basic i just developed this vacuum-cleaning method of grabbing and stacking shit as fast as I could--eating as soon as I had shit on my tray mind you--eating on my way to the table, eating as I sat down, then really going to town over the tray as motherfuckingquickly as humanly possible. I was literally sucking the food off of my tray. did this shit for weeks. got to be normal. food. ssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhlurp. done. wa's next?
so i'm home on leave. family all together. Back in Normy Rockwellville. Steaming lasagna on the table. welcome home son, help yourself to..... sssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhllllllllllllurp I had half-a-that fucking lasagna laddled onto my plate and had my face down on the edge of the table and was shovelling into my jowls. in. in. in. in. go. go. go. go. eat. eat. eat. eat. shovel shovel shovel shovel. godDAMNED this shit is good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK is this delicious...... wasamatter?
I look... my mom, my dad, my brothers... they're just staring at me. they're staring at me like an alien just sploded out of my chest and scurried off to kill the whole crew one by one. didn't say a word. just staring. incredulous. like..... who is this?
that was the fun part. all the laughs and ho-hos and good times was out the window one little fuck this and fuck that at a time. you're just not aware of it. mom was like, please watch your language around your brothers and i'd be like, what-the-fuck did I say mom? FUCK, I didn't say SHIT and so on for the next few days. then I got a lecture on profanity. profanity is an expression of frustration. profanity is only used by people who have no other way of expressing themselves. profanity is the refuge of the weak, and simple and angry people. I mulled this over and concluded I had become a very weak, and very angry and a very simple person. I was angry at the world for smashing my Norm Rockwell. Angry at myself for not seeing it coming. Angry at the lies and deceptions and cheating and stealing and fuckery upon fuckery upon fuckery and for being raised straight and narrow in the middle of a carnivore-infested sideways twisted bent mangled path to sheer hell.
Truth be told.... I've been angry ever since. IF I ever get saddled with kids, somehow, those little bastards are in for one HELL of a realization EARLY. they will be able to conjugate, explicate, duplicate, divide, multiply, hypothesize, morphesize, cook, fry, bake, pilot, fix, repair, maintain, fire or otherwise HANDLE the word FUCK and all its various meanings and subtexts and implications and uses forwards backwards and you-know-whatwards. I'll promise them allowances and just not give it. I'll give one kid more than the next. I'll steal their shit. I'll lie to them. I'll drink in front of them. I'll have them drinking till they puke. They'll watch CALIGULA and CLOCKWORK ORANGE and read Burroughs and Hunter and do recitals from POST OFFICE before they can goddamned walk. They will be fieldstripping Glocks before they can pop a jar of Gerbers. Motherfuckers will LEARN that the whole planet is run by Dick Cheney motherfucking cuntwhores who wish us all dead and roasted for the sake of a percentage. Is what will be on the curriculum at MY fucking home. that work is for suckers and fools and slaves. that's it's all about OWNERSHIP. they will become pirates and brigands and thieves and liars and devious and I will shower them with love and praise and judiciously random and pointless abuse. deal with it fuckers. that's life. random. pointless. brutal. adapt and overcome. shoot move communicate. pass the ammo, check your six, trust no one, do the other guy before he does you, keep your enemies closest, fuck your friends... what a motherfuck of a PLANET do we live on......................
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