Note, I did not say 'self' centered. Self centered people are assholes. But people who have no sense of their 'me' are just pitiful.
How is this going to affect 'me'? What's in this for 'me'? Why are these people pretending to care about 'me', to get 'me' to do what they want?
Okay, no more apostrophes. They are annoying, unless they make 'me' happy. See how this works?
I have decided to not participate in the drama of others. I don't have to work, so I won't. Co-workers suck. I can afford to survive, frills-free, on my pittance, so I will. The kids think they are rich, and the wife's own me coincides with mine, so this makes us, if not happy all of the time, at least content most of the time.
It makes me happy to write. Very similar to jerking off, but with less mess. I came up with a novel story idea (yeah, ponder that line) that is so incredible and unique, I don't feel right sharing it until it is complete, and I begin shopping it. Do not beg. I fear thievery.
I have so many novels in my head, I now completely understand why Mr. King employed the agencies of Mr. Bachman. I suspect that the wife will be making a fortune off my writing after I'm dead, whereas I, like Moses, will be kept outside the Promised Land.
Oh well. That does not sadden or offend me. 'Me'.
It makes me happy to give to some people, so I do. It makes me very happy to tell other people to fuck off, so I do, oh I do. I am perhaps the most untrusting human being who is not actively psychotic (I think) that you've ever met, yet I gave someone the keys and the power to delete my blog with a single keystroke. It made me happy.
Once you get in touch with the me, it makes it easier to deal with the you. It reduces humanity to subsets of 'puny humans', and 'the enlightened'. There's no Secret Handshake, or any rituals or bylaws, merely the affirmation that, starting now, I am going to be me.
Not the me you, or you over there want. Not the me I have been pretending to be. Not some me that I made up and am trying to be.
I've been doing it since I began this blog, and have been honing the skills it takes me to be me for some years, now. Funny, as I am still, for the most part, anonymous.
I'm not stupid, ya know.
V-Man said I should delete this part:
I discovered myself sixteen years ago, when my last divorce rained down around me like the fireballs of Armageddon. The wife has helped me discover my me, and I'd like to think I have introduced her to hers.
Miles to go before we sleep, but we are doing quite all right, thank you. She left today, for a women's retreat in the mountains, with her church, and I miss her so, and I'm glad she's gone. The kids and I will have a blast, and the home-coming will be sweet.
I don't need her.
I want her.