About

To be human, one must recognize and accept a certain element of irreducible rascality both in oneself and in one’s enemies.

– Alan Watts

Culture makes us feel as if we must always be perfect. We recognize that, and we joke about it, and battle against it in our own ways. But still we strive for it. We want to impress, we want to succeed. I in particular have made some very big life choices based entirely around what others expected of me.

I have started so many blogs in my life. They’ve all fallen away for one reason or another — too narrow of a topic, too big of a goal, Geocities shutting down. But those are excuses more than anything. The reality is that my own standards, expectations, fears, and desire to be liked have affected my ability to continue. I just get too tangled.

I am a deeply flawed individual. Quite small in the grand scheme of things. I make colossal mistakes. I am often pretentious and arrogant, especially with my words. And, at times, I can be quite the villain.

Looking directly at that reality is, I hope, the first step in sloughing off some of the too-serious expectations that myself and others have of me. I love to write, and I want to learn what it’s like to do so more freely. I want to have more honest conversations instead of navigating a minefield of modern communication rules/decorum. Even as I write this I’m over-thinking what you, some total stranger on the internet, will think of me.  Do I seem like I have something to say or do I seem more like a pompous ass? But even if I’m more of the latter, I want to stop caring. I want to stop getting so caught up in my insecurities.

I want us all to give each other a break. Communicate like adults, flaws and all. I want to stop playing “gotcha” games and being stimulated by others’ misfortunes. I want to root for each other, give each other room to make mistakes and be human.

I want to admit to the rascal in me, and have him converse with the recognized rascal in you. Honesty. Humor. No more posturing.

“You smell awful,” I say.

“Yeah?” you sniff, “Well, you look like shit.”

Then we both laugh.