XIII: Instead of anaesthetic, we only had warm milk

I said last night that I would probably still be annoyed enough to go back to that tangent. In a way, I am and I'm not. After all, I've slept on it and it's really not all that fascinating. Of course, fascinating the readers is the antithesis of what this blog is about anyway.

What happened was this. At the family gathering, some people were talking - and damned if I know or even care who it was, but they were my family members and my mom was among them - and somehow it came up (again, damned if I know how,) that I have some apparent negative personality traits. Now, everybody has their flaws, I know I ain't perfect, but this is about context. The word "arrogant" actually came up, and according to the consensus of my family, my brother Eric is comparably down-to-earth.

I have no idea what this means, although it certainly became the moment where I officially no longer care about impressing my family. I shouldn't take it so hard, but it's pretty effing annoying. I don't even know what to make of it, because I know I'm not myself when I'm around my family, I tend to act more... I don't know, family-friendly. I hate to admit this, but I'm not certain they know what I'm like. and I say this, only to add that I really don't know what I'm like, myself. What am I to the outside world? What am I to myself? Arrogant?

Fuck it - it does annoy me.

Three or so years ago, I was a twerp. I hated my life, I hated everything, I was miserable. I was uncentred, I had no idea what the world was like, I was a little bitch. A moody one, too. But over time I grew out of it to the point where I could walk confidently, with at least some semblance of self-assuredness, where I can function in society and attempt to have a life of my own. And maybe that image I project can be a bit cocky, but if I'm not, then I'm that self-loathing little git who knows he will never amount to anything and will never try. I have never forgotten the anguish I heaped on myself in those years and have done my best to walk tall past it. If they don't dig it? Fuck 'em! What do they know, man?

Besides, my mom tends to use words without being sure of the meaning. She used to say, "Oh, this person's real aggressive" or some such sentence, and to hear it, you'd know it didn't sound right. So adjectives are not my mother's strong suit.

It's a fucking miracle I never crumbled under the pressure at some point over the years. I could've been unremarkable. I could've been some anonymous kid doing, I dunno, business somewhere looking to secure himself a permanent residence in the middle of the road. But ever since I was in grade 3, people have been looking at me and expecting something big. Neither of my brothers had that kind of attention. Eric's a smart guy, but he spent about 4 years as a washout, so it was a pleasant surprise that he made it to 22 with his intelligence and wit intact, determined for once to get his shit together. Brandon made it through life fascinated by computers, and then graduated high school wanting to not even bother continuing with them, instead opting to get in on his connections and make money with resources rather than abilities. Good for him, too. Me, I should've crumbled years ago. I ain't as smart as I'm supposed to be, but I've made it this far on charm and ability and moxie and I'm still going further. But clearly, my family ain't into positively reinforcing me. And it hurts, because I know to some degree it's true, because it's either be that, or be nothing.

Worse yet. Any longtime reader and psychoanalyzer of these ramblings will note that I'm one paranoid sonofabitch. Many of my thoughts center on speculation of what other people might be thinking of me, fears that they ain't so flattering. And to discover that these sentiments are not only being thought, bt openly expressed, by your own damn family? That oughtta send me right off the deep end.

Maybe I'm blowing this right out of proportion, but you know, I don't know if I've ever felt appreciated, and I'm not just talkin' about home life here. Maybe when I did Half-Past, I came close. I had a moment where I could tell a huge group of people were glad for something I'd done, but I've not come close even once since and the pressure keeps mounting that I've got to do something big soon or else I'm back to feeling like the nothing I secretly suspect I am. Maybe that's my whole motivation for ever doing anything creative, is the desire for approval and accolade, as that's all I've got to offer. Then this had to happen and I had to string it along with all my pre-existing hang-ups.

I like my parents, I like my family. This is ridiculous.

A thought that applies to this but is meant to be taken as a much more broad statement: it's laughable whenever a parent bemoans an offspring's behaviour. This is your handiwork. As loose of a relationship as I ever had with my parents, particularly in recent years, I still can't think of anything that might have influenced me as much as them. They don't like how I turned out? They should'a done better. But I love 'em anyhow, because - for once in my life - I love myself, and fuck what anybody else thinks of that. Arrogant indeed.

I had this dream last night about zombie attacks. I was this guy; not myself, but fictional, yet in my life, the way a dream can create its own reality relative to the goings-on in your own brain.

It's been chilly. Brr.

Ever have an itch somewhere you couldn't satisfactorily scratch? I don't just mean a hard-to-reach place, I mean, like, on your heel or achilles tendon, where it just feels weird to scratch.

I've listened to Patti Smith's recording of Gloria more times in this past week than a human reasonably should. But it's cool and sure. (That sentence made no sense but felt right.)

More fascinating thoughts tomorrow. I've done way too damn much psychoanalysis tonight/ever. Idle thoughts - nothing interesting happened today, or ever. I just sat around with Eric and watched Amanda's Freaks and Geeks DVD set, which was a good show and worth checking out but maybe not worth the unruly price tag.

Keep on rockin'
-Williams