You know, when I was in college, I had a friend, and somehow, he and I managed to get going on a „who can be the most pessimistic“kick. Entertaining as this was at the time, it was a bit dangerous, and I found the whole experience quite educational. He had a way of saying, “Everything sucks, and if something good happens, it will be like a bonus.” Because of this approach, he almost won the contest, but in the end I won out, though I will save that story for another time. Sometimes best to leave a few skeletons in the closet, no?
We eventually grew up and out of our pessimistic tendencies, at least for the most part.
For me, rightly or wrongly, I developed a habit of wearing my heart on my sleeve; I have touched on that many times over the years. That took me a while to come to terms with, but I accepted things eventually, finding ways to mask emotion with a whole lot of satire, grim humor and wit, which further developed my style.
This style is not without its drawbacks, as I have always had a knack for laughing out loud while telling someone to fuck off (thus giving the impression that I was joking while I really was quite serious), or sometimes saying something so absurd, with a straight face, that people would almost take offense, thinking surely I spoke in jest, while I was quite the opposite.
I struggled with the feelings of being misunderstood for a long time. It took a bit of time before I realized that my style appeals to a much smaller audience (hence the reason that there are five regular readers of this blog…though I do thank each of you!), and while I accept that fact, sometimes it becomes a bit much.
I might add, though, that I grew up in a culture where cheerleaders happened to be everywhere, a wee too bubbly and chipper for my taste, and perhaps my pessimistic feelings came from the need to compensate, as I surely found them to be a bit much.
Like we all do over time and experience, we (or at least I do) reflect on things, and sometimes discover that it is ok to change our tune. This is not to say we should stop liking punk music in favor of opera; to that, I would laugh out loud with a hearty fuck off! I believe the change comes more gradually, which is better, as it allows you to develop at your pace. (er, punk, then shoegazer, then prog, then classical, and then opera? Er, if it suits you.)
With me, I slowly stopped wearing shirts with slogans like, “Smoke this, cheesedick motherfucker,” or “join a frat, rent a friend,” not because I no longer believed in the sentiment, but because I realized that the slogans were rather rude, and apt not to be so accepted. I am sure my Eco and Literature Profs would be relieved to know this. Probably a couple of old bosses, too. More important, though, I am glad for me.
Over the years, my pessimism has decreased, but not necessarily in the complete direction of optimism. That said, I do tend to support and cheer (we all have a bit of cheerleader in us) when compelled. True, those times may be infrequent, but what I lack in quantity I make up for in quality, because I deem them so important to me. Whether this be something like the FA Cup final in 2005, or wanting my nephew to do well on a math exam, or simply wanting a friend to be safe, happy, and at peace.
Yes, I tend to be selective, mainly because I tend to extend quite an effort in supporting the causes I feel worthy, and it can be equally rewarding and exhausting. But, even when I feel like I am running full speed into a brick wall (Barca-Arsenal Champs League 2nd leg 2011, for example) I still feel it the right thing to do, even if the result isn’t what I wanted, or expected.
The valuable lesson that I learned is to prepare yourself for the fact that you may have to say “Ouch!” Not everything or everyone will accept the Rah Rahs…
Ironic, that the very reason that people turn pessimistic is because of the rejection, or a big fucking brick wall.
Like I said, I am glad that I understand this, and while it doesn’t always make my life particularly easy, it is part of life all the same.
Alas, I have had a few moments recently where the bricks were a bit tough, or maybe I was running too fast. At any rate, I would have to say that some of the music stopped. This generated a bit of personal concern, as have this feeling I am living a short story that I wrote years ago (while wearing a silly shirt that said, “smoke this, cheesedick…”), and this story had a very horrible ending.
I am in the middle of figuring that out at the moment, and all things considered, I am ok with things, particularly since, and I must say this with a straight face: “Bring it On” is on the video on demand in my hotel, and I am in. So what if it is in Hungarian.
After all, we’ve all got a bit of cheerleader in us…
Keep the faith
Bryan
Soundtrack:
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
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