Archive for respect

This will do

Posted in Updates with tags , , , on May 29, 2013 by Johnny Broken

Before I continue, I want to bring up something that I think is funny that only came to my attention a few years ago. Now I do think of myself as mostly easy going. But when it was pointed out to me that people think I’m extremely mellow, I was, well, shocked. I’m laid back, yeah. The shenanigans I pulled in high school aside, I am not an aggressive person, even though I am one of the most hate filled (equal opportunity, mind you, I generally hate everyone because they have something better than me) and angry guys that you’ll ever meet. I just don’t ACT on it. I’m just a little guy, short and scrawny, so I really don’t have any “weight” to through around to back up an attitude. (I do regularly listen to extremely aggressive music, which as far as I’m concerned is the main way I can get my aggression out. Gave up on trying to find a girl who’s also laid back but likes any kind of angry music, never mind the kind of obscure music I like.) So when you add up all these quirks, it apparently comes across that I have an extremely mellow attitude.

Anyway, getting back to why I think people calling me mellow is funny. Well, I do think that hippies are mellow, and I am about as far as you can get from being a hippie. But that’s not the punchline in question here. Several years ago I… made a pretty big mistake (that I’ll probably go on about in detail in the future) that I’m still paying for. It’s hurt my health pretty significantly. I mean I was never that strapping to begin with, but my insides do seem to be failing me at a steady rate these days. And that also leads to the big secret of how and why I am so laid back, easy going, and (arguably) mellow.

I’m dying.

Seriously. I’m convinced I will be dead in a couple years from either cancer or some other internal organ failure. And I’m okay with that. In fact, I’m kind of happy about it. In the grand scheme of things, all my flaws and failures and the @#$% life keeps throwing at me really won’t matter after nature completes its course and finally does me in. If I don’t get the job done earlier myself, of course.

Now where was I? Ah, right. I’m kind of… what’s the word… pathetic.

I’m as single as single can be. Been that way for most of my life. Not happy about it, I admit I’m rather bitter. But, sadly, I am used to it. Mostly. Hell, years ago I used to say I was trying to burn the need for human companionship out of my system. Didn’t really work out so well to my dismay. I mean I can get along on my own, but the thing that gets me is that I shouldn’t have to. I like going out and about once in a while to things like concerts and conventions and Renaissance Faires. I can make people laugh, and kind of enjoy doing so, dammit. But I have a lot of issues regarding other aspects of society. Oh, you like sports? Popular music? You think Will Farrell is funny? Great! No, really. And then my mind starts to wander about how much more entertaining it is to play a game online with people I’ll never actually meet in real life. But I keep trying to get out and meet new people. I’m a little masochistic that way, I guess.

I’m also not a good looking guy, I know this. And if you’re going to tell me that women don’t really care that much about how a guy looks, or that I shouldn’t go for a girl who’s that obsessed with appearances, or that I can win over a girl based on MY personality, I’m going to tell you that for the most part, you’re either lying or delusional. I’m not saying every single woman on the planet is superficial, mind you, but an awful lot of them are.

And, well, as far as personality goes, I am ranting and raving here, but I cannot stress enough that I DO NOT do this in real life. If you actually met me in the real world and listened to me, you’d probably have the same reaction a photographer did recently. See, I walked in, intentionally dressed all “gothed up” and started rambling to ease my nerves. (I have come to the conclusion that I actually don’t mind having my picture taken if I have something covering my face, like a mask or sunglasses or facepaint or whatever. But if there isn’t anything else covering my face, well, gah.) And after a few minutes, the photographer, who was a fairly cool guy, grinned and said something to the effect of “I just have to say, if I only saw you walking across the street and never heard you talk, I would have a COMPLETELY different impression of you. You look like you’re about to do something illegal, but you come across like such a calm guy.” I get that a lot.

For whatever reason when I was growing up, I had an extreme stutter. Took speech classes and everything. Don’t remember how things progressed away from the classes, but it got to the point that I was able to function pretty normally. I do still stutter from time to time if I get nervous or caught off guard, but for the most part, I have developed a very articulate, educated way of talking when I’m not dipping into Buffyspeak. I know that my tendency to unintentionally talk “over people” with “big words” is part of the problem when people meet me for the first time, I just don’t know how much of a problem it is, since folks who get really annoyed by how I talk tend to drop off the face of the earth. So considering that I look like I’m about ready to murder someone, but my overall demeanor is laid back, and I tend to talk like I just walked out of high end business office, it’s difficult for me to meet new people in the real world.

But there’s another thing regarding my personality. Somewhere along the lines I got it stuck in my head that being a gentleman is the proper way to act towards a woman. You know, the basics like always treat a woman with respect at all times, and then the small things, like opening doors or buying gifts. I know some women aren’t into that sort of thing for whatever reason, but it’s irrelevant anyway. In my case, it is pretty much all for naught. I may have mentioned this already, but women cannot get past what I look like. Never mind that most women want a muscular man who’s taller than they are. (Which are two more strikes against my short and scrawny self.) Or some other bullshit like women instinctually want a mate who looks like they could protect them should the need arise, or whatever. The important part is that most women, while they may say they want a man that acts in the gentlemanly way I do, they don’t want a man who looks the way I do. A real man would admit that he knows your little sister could probably take him in a fight.

-Johnny Broken (formerly known as Zer0)

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