Sunday, 26 July 2009

whatever floats your boat

i have a friend who regularly blogs, and is very effeminate about the things she writes about. miss clique is an appropriate pseudonym, i think. ms clique, amongst other persons whom i know, have a fond affinity for the touchy-feely (upon re-reading this paragraph, i think i'm not being specific enough about the topic - when i say touchy-feely, i'm referring to the self-help section in the bookstore. the best friend's advice when you just got kicked in the balls, etc etc), and i'm all for that. i would be hypocritical if i, as a person who is a self-acknowledged former-depressive individual, thought that it's all in your head. to the masculine among us, we've all heard the cliches: 'it's bs that people feed you to make you feel better about yourself', 'it's a state of mind; you are who you think you are', 'only for the weak', etc etc.

now contrary to what you may think, i am not about to advocate the cause. and neither am i berating it. i'm all about things in moderation. balance. neutrality. and i just wanted to point out that as much as i endorse ms clique's musings of the soft-hearted encouragement, i think it's getting to our heads. the extreme of this feeling is best examplified by telling special kids that they're special. sure, they are. i don't want people calling them retards, that's just wrong. i don't want people telling them they're special in the way that misleads them to think that they're unimpaired. this doesn't mean they won't overcome the impairment, though.

okay, i'm just juggling my words trying to be politically correct, while trying to make my point, and it's not working. do you remember watching a movie where some crippled guy needs help getting something off the top shelf, but won't accept help and ends up 1. not getting it 2. getting it after a lot of trouble 3. getting it after smashing the other items on lower racks 4. pissing the person who offered help off 5. summoning sweet mutilated jesus from the grave to levitate him to appropriate height, but in the process recieves enlightenment and can walk again 5. shooting the guy who offered help and using his body as a stepping stone to get the item. my mind wanders. i'm just saying we all have our faults and we should acknowledge them and move on. having someone or something to make you feel better about it is fine and even encouraged, but deceiving yourself to the point that you may feel you were never flawed in the first place is a bit ridiculous. mutilated jesus shuns you.

i hope nobody misinterprets my message and starts throwing stones at my metaphorical wall. if it helps, read this entry again with a squeaky mouse voice and add appropriate rainbows and kittens. preferably fried, not roasted.

the reason i write this is because a couple of posts ago i berated myself for living in my own shadow, and now i see ms clique's blog in a new light - one that may not have been intended by her but i feel the touchy-feely had to be toned down. or as i would say in the company of my friends, ctfd. in any case, i would like to remind you (and especially myself) that the reason we couldn't dance isn't because our shoes are lopsided, or the floor is uneven, or our dancing partner sucks balls, or genetically enhanced dragonflies from the future are executing a plan to make humankind unable to perform complex hand-eye coordination - sometimes it's just us. and there's nothing wrong with that. take dance classes. not modern dance, that stuff's just wrong. pretty sure if the dragonflies are doing anything with our coordination, that would be the likely method of execution. or just for the touchy-feely, still, dance like nobody's watching; even if you're the laughing stock of your peers, at least you can say you gave it all your heart (? wtf hell no. go take those dance classes)

again digressing. um. well the point of it all, it's nice when you have an excuse, and especially so if it's a true or justifiable one. it's not cool to go looking for one every time you slip up. kids, stay in school.

p/s: i just played my first tft match on this crappy computer, and i lost. am i going to blame this on the shitty computer? or the fact i hadn't played in 3 years? or my optical mouse freaking out on me because i play on a glass surface? or my opponent being 14 levels above me? yes i am. but i'm sure as hell going to practice so i don't suck as much next time.

or i could study, which i should be doing. also, apologies to ms clique

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