Doesn't Apply Himself

The following is an early penned entry from 1999. I'll be cutting out some words to make it sound less juvenile so it's possible to wade through. It's not particularly good or poignant, but shows a bit of my attitude and outlook at the time. For posterity, I suppose.

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There are very few people who have chosen me to be their friend. Very seldom do people venture to me. Most see me as one of those 'has real potential but doesn't apply himself' types. But they are wrong.

I do apply myself, just not to things people wish me to. I used to have a best friend. He was the kind of person who, for example, if you messed up at a speech, instead of saying, "I'm sure no one noticed!" like a normal human, he would laugh. At you. Loudly. Mockingly. I asked him what people said about me.

His response was that most people thought of me as some depressed poetry writing nut. But a nice one.

I will admit that there was a time when I was depressive. But there is a difference between being depressed and being severely unhappy.

I asked my friend if I was depressing. "Yes, you're negative, morbid, and cynical...but that's why we love you." Of course, I can't claim I dissuaded anyone's opinion of me. When people wanted to know things, they usually asked certain questions. "What's your favorite colour?" Black. "What are your hobbies?" Writing stories. "What kind? Sad?" Usually.

I am not saying that people shouldn't have friends or anything, but my lack of any support from them gave me the room and freedom to change.

As a perfectionist I was not ever happy with myself. I asserted my negative energy into reading. Everything. I became a dominating source of information pertaining to anything imaginable.

This gained me more humiliation than actual respect and I tore myself apart from the inside out. It was during my initial confusion that I made most of my friends that I have now. As an act of defiance, I lashed out against one of my instructors.

It was not so much the man as what he stood for and symbolized in my mind. He was the part of me that I hated the most, and I don't care how egotistic it makes me sound -- I knew before the clash that he didn't stand a chance. I outspoke and outmanipulated him, and he has not underestimated me since. Once while we were "debating" in the halls I gave him a piece of my mind. He took it, turned it over in his hands, and gave it back. While he was looking, though, I stole a piece of his. I hope he's not counting on getting it back.

But it was from these new friends and old determination that I chose to become what I am now. It's true that I still don't enjoy dancing, singing, parties...but I am content and that's what really matters. I'm happy being both outgoing and conservative. Sometimes, you've just got to be yourself and not care who anyone else is.

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Man, I was such an angsty little bitch. But dissuade was a good word choice. I need to pick that one up again; I never hear it anymore. And more semicolons for pseudo-intellectualism. Huzzah.