Monday, 9 March 2009
The Confession of a Hater
I have to confess something, not because it feels good to state, but because I’m curious if anyone else out there has similar feelings: I don’t think I truly like one person. Not my friends. Not my family. The only people I seem to like are those that I don’t know very well and as soon as I get to know them better, my likeness towards them disappears. The closer you get to look at someone, the more glaring the imperfections. Even Pam Anderson has Hepatitis. They are either stupid, crazy, annoying, or stupid crazy-annoying. Am I self-righteous? Too judgmental and unforgiving? Perhaps just a grumpy fuck. Is the prescription to stay far away and experience life through binoculars or to be consistently disappointed? Change myself, you say? Fuck you. What a popularly held, but completely ridiculous concept. How many lives have been ruined because of one person’s hope that another would change? I think relationships are much like life: bursts of greatness marred by excessive tedium. The occasional creation of an excellent inside joke placed within weeks of boring, repetitive, meaningless conversation. I suppose it’s better than being alone all the time, but not much.
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5 comments:
I hate you, too! Let's just cut to the chase, get married, and then drag out a really nasty divorce. <-/joke->
Familiarity breeds contempt. It may be cliché, but it is still true. And this coming from a man with 15 years of marriage to provide all the data you would ever need to prove that hypothesis.
It's lonely at the top of the food chain. Maybe those that still face daily predators and live shorter, quieter, more desperate lives are actually happier and love/hate with more passion than we will ever know. Could be a plus side to the coming lesser standard of living after all.
Good piece. It is true for me and, I suspect, everyone who is self-reflective. Allow me to say "welcome to the party" before I come to despise you.
"It's lonely at the top of the food chain." Well put. My generation (20's) of white, middle-class Americans has been born into such a comfortable place. How can we appreciate life when we have no perspective? That, in my opinion, is why we're so hellbent on creating our own destruction. Our parents worked hard so we won't have to and now I'm left with a life filled with boredom and a silver spoon. Now I just need to grow the balls to give it all up and make it for myself if I want to salvage my sanity.
Excessive tedium = my life.
Well done.
I would've said the hepatitis was the only half decent thing about Pam Anderson.
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