It’s all a matter of smelling your own defacation, and learning to like it…

There is this endless attempt on my part to create some sort of definition of myself. In relation to some of the (really) exemplary specimens of humanity I find myself surrounded by these days (and a lot of other days for that matter, but then humanity is just so dang special ain’t it?). Anyway, in comparison to some of these goobers, I feel like a fucking sage – but I would hardly describe myself as wise, were someone to ask. Not that I am entirely certain of what constitutes wisdom.

“1. a. Capacity of judging rightly in matters relating to life and conduct; soundness of judgement in the choice of means and ends; sometimes, less strictly, sound sense, esp. in practical affairs: opp. to folly.

At least according to the OED. Seems a bit fucking arbitrary to me. But perhaps that is the point… hmm… what point?

So… ah yes, defining. I call myself a writer… well sometimes… when the opportunity arises, and I am not forced to explain to some superior git the fact that I haven’t been published, made any money from writing, finished a single piece for, well, ever really – though the number that I have started, and seem quite promising is fucking immense – or for that matter the fact that I really don’t write that much.

I am uninterested in defining myself by comparison to someone else (actual or otherwise). I mean Mike Patton? – well let’s face it, my singing talent would have me the first voted off Australian (or any other) Idol – as vomitous a notion as such a program is. Tyler Durden – I’m simply just not that cool – don’t got the body (yet), don’t got the delivery, don’t got the Who’s-your-daddy… ain’t been in a fight (despite the fact I keep thinking I wouldn’t mind being in some… just for a bit… kind of…). I could go on citing my unfavourable comparison to any and all of my heroes (fictional or “real”), but you get the idea… I hope… If not, stop reading and fuck off.

Am I a cynic? Well yes… and no… How does one balance a deeply cynical outlook on the state of, possibility for, intelligence of humanity with an essential compassion for people on an individual level? How to reconcile an intolerance for people’s fucking stupidity, intolerance (yeah I get it… I wrote it didn’t I?), bigotry, greed, selfishness, superficiality, etc, with an understanding of people’s situations and how they arrive at these fucked up places, spaces, mindsets and attitudes. A dichotomy.

There’s perhaps a good little self-definition right there: dichotomous. Or in other words, Contrary and fucking Confused.

I mean, why the fuck should I have a want to define myself anyway? Do I really give a shit what other people think? No! (Well maybe a lucky and highly select few of you). In fact, I’ll fight any of you that seek to define me, or categorise me, or put me in a fucking box, or any of that judgemental shit. Does that mean I’ll fight myself… well I wouldn’t be the first now would I? Might be a step in the right direction…

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~ by Gethin A. Lynes on August 16th, 2008.

One Response to “It’s all a matter of smelling your own defacation, and learning to like it…”

  1. If it wasn’t for the dumb people who would we direct our anger at. Well…. I would direct my anger haphazardly anyway but I digress.

    I say let us not tolerate fools and continue to shit (metaphorically)on there existence.

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