A. (more drastic-sounding than i meant it to be)
When you read, when you hear, someone's account of personal trauma and your immediate response, internally, is, "oh, boo-hoo, get over yourself. Those things happen. Those things aren't so bad. It's just the way the world works. They meant well, anyway. It could have been worse. Can't you stop whining and just be thankful that it wasn't worse?" that is how you know that the bastards got you after all. To a certain extent.
I resent people who are capable of righteous indignation and rebellion and outspokenness and fight. I am not. The most I can offer is refusal and withdrawal-- quiet ways of saying no. Sometimes it's not even that good; it's me acquiescing in the most grudging manner possible. I've done a lot of grudging acquiescing in my life. I've done a lot of keeping my head down.
I do a lot of weird things that, to me, feel like secret ways of saying Fuck You. I can't even trace the logic behind some of them-- assuming there is any followable logic there. I dress up. I dress like a little girl. I go out the side door early, these days, if I don't think an event is interesting or if the crush and clamor of other people is making me too sweaty and lightheaded. I don't bother looking anyone in the eye. I dress like a little girl, and I drink, and I sometimes smoke, and I write on paper, and I show up early with the appearance of composure and red, red eyes. The funny part is how good doing things that are supposed to be backwards and wrong, immature and irresponsible, vapid and trivial, uncool and silly makes me feel. I'm not helping anyone. I can't hold forth coherently on political issues or social justice or the wrongness of status quos. I'm kind of a jerk.
I wish, sometimes, that I were more of a jerk; then I might be able to stand up to people flat-out. I might be able to help someone.
I resent people who are capable of righteous indignation and rebellion and outspokenness and fight. I am not. The most I can offer is refusal and withdrawal-- quiet ways of saying no. Sometimes it's not even that good; it's me acquiescing in the most grudging manner possible. I've done a lot of grudging acquiescing in my life. I've done a lot of keeping my head down.
I do a lot of weird things that, to me, feel like secret ways of saying Fuck You. I can't even trace the logic behind some of them-- assuming there is any followable logic there. I dress up. I dress like a little girl. I go out the side door early, these days, if I don't think an event is interesting or if the crush and clamor of other people is making me too sweaty and lightheaded. I don't bother looking anyone in the eye. I dress like a little girl, and I drink, and I sometimes smoke, and I write on paper, and I show up early with the appearance of composure and red, red eyes. The funny part is how good doing things that are supposed to be backwards and wrong, immature and irresponsible, vapid and trivial, uncool and silly makes me feel. I'm not helping anyone. I can't hold forth coherently on political issues or social justice or the wrongness of status quos. I'm kind of a jerk.
I wish, sometimes, that I were more of a jerk; then I might be able to stand up to people flat-out. I might be able to help someone.