I am far too easily irritated by the little things; as a result of my irritation, I was one angry and nasty child in a house full of angry, nasty people, and I loved it. I would look at those friendly
and kind naive optimists and laugh, “what idiots.” Then I started to develop a conscious brain and thought, “uh oh”, I myself do everything that irritates me, so I must be a big ole nuisance. Hate
people who talk a lot? I couldn’t shut up if I had a mouse trap attached to my tongue. I started to find more and more examples of things that I did that annoyed me about others. I made it a point
to only get angry at things that I do not also do myself. Over time I have found things that still get my blood boiling. There are three things in this world that tick me off. *The three things are morals, language, and confident people.
One thing that ticks me off is morals. Why must the governing body of my life be so strict? And what for? I have found that acting according to these divine principles has not led me better off. In fact, I would go as far as to say they’ve been a hindrance, and a propellant of fear. I hate them because I hold them close; I foolishly believe there must be a right answer. According to the code of conduct, according to ethics and my beliefs, there must be an answer, in any situation, best suited for my life. Hmm… black shirt or yellow shirt? Well, I’m going to a funeral so it must be black, my shirt must be black! And my pants too, but wait, black is a sad color, and this man lived a good life; should I not instead celebrate his achievements with the vibrancy of color? It’s tricky, on the one hand I want to celebrate him, but if I show up in a yellow shirt how will anyone know that I am sad? But wait again! What if I am not sad altogether? Well I’d be a terrible person, almost certainly I would be! Already I am so terrible in my yellow button down shirt and solid blue tie– I found out that the man in the casket loved Spongebob; I thought it nice to commemorate that love with my outfit– while everyone else is in black, weeping, and glancing over to me as if I am some coldhearted fool. “I knew I should have worn black, now people will think that I am making a mockery of their dear friend’s death”, I thought.
Surely they will detest me; they will think I am only there for the free peppermints (which are a delicious plus) and they will detest me! I have broken the sacred moral code, out of ignorance.
One must believe me when I say that my intent was not malicious, and some will, but still I will have made some feel uncomfortable in a time of grief, and therefore, my actions will be frowned upon.
Another thing that ticks me off is language. Language is like applying a band-aid to a severed limb; the landscape of human experience is much too vast to be conveyed through a collection
of sounds exiting the mouth. These collection of sounds turn into words, often with multiple meanings and interpretations and memories attached to them, that make up our conscious
perception. In the world of words, true understanding is a shooting star, a spectacle to behold, a marvel to be witnessed; how often has one laid their eyes upon a shooting star? The problem then, dear reader, is that all too often we are misconstrued, and as well, of course, we misconstrue. One will even read this, a frequent seer of shooting stars, and think to themselves what a lousy metaphor. I mean, my goodness, is there a better example to this problem than that of a relationship ending?
“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant”, he says. “I know that’s what I said but I didn’t mean it. Well… I did mean it, just not in that way, how I said it sounds bad, like spoiled milk. I meant to
calm you…”
“Oh, so you think I need to calm down, is that it?” She is visibly upset and not at all in need of calming down. “And what, if I calm down that makes you my savior? My knight in shining armor to whom I should be oh, so grateful!”
“I mean, that would be nice of you to say…”
“Ugh! You’re unbelievable, I’m out of here!”
“No, wait, stop, I was just joking around, I thought it would lighten the mood, I was wrong. Please stop walking, I’m sorry!”
But in this case she was already gone; there was no stopping her, no chance of changing her mind, and what he had lamenting in his heart would forever be left infuriatingly unsaid, all because he couldn’t find the right words in time.
The last thing that ticks me off is confident people. Listen, I’m going to come across as a cynic, perhaps it is a personal issue on my part that I must tend to, that is likely; nonetheless, I will vent
my disgust of confident people. Confidence is to stupidity as peanut butter is to jelly. How could one be so confident when we know so little? We are taught to be confident in ourselves regardless of what we do or do not know. This paves the way for righteous thinkers and power hungry narcissists all the same, to falsify themselves and drag the masses down with them; Catholicism is a great example.
I have never understood the unwavering confidence of Catholics in the existence of heaven and hell; even more so, it amazes me how virtually every catholic deems themselves worthy of heaven. I heard a catholic say one time, “god forgives everything so long as you believe in him.”
Okay… first of all, he? God is a man? Who said? Whatever, I can look past that we have given gender to god; what pisses me off is that confidence in the existence of god gives one permission to do
whatever the hell they so please, and make no mistake, it is hell they so please. I have a friend, an atheist, so at least he can’t pawn off his malevolence to the almighty, who is confident that he will never die. We have conversations quite frequently on the matter and I’ll say something like, “being confident in the only certainty that life has is egregiously absurd.” He’ll respond scientifically, “medicine is moving exponentially and they’ve already experimented with freezing other forms of life. You have no idea how AI is going to change everything we know.” Ya, yaaa, give me a break, not dying, ha! My brain is mashed potatoes trying to even formulate a response, so naturally I give up, sparing myself the agony. One must be confident to conversate with a confident person or else they will die of boredom listening to a person that is a one way street. Could one maybe, and I know this is a crazy thought, expand the scope of their thoughts as to what is actually possible? All one has to do is look at a tree or a flower or a full moon or a lightning bolt or experience an earthquake or hurricane or tsunami! We are at the mercy of everything that is not ourselves and one has the nerve to live as though they have it all figured out? Nonsense!
In conclusion, forget about what’s right or wrong and break a rule every now and again; scream out vulgarities like an ignorant child, and avoid becoming a pillar of immovable confidence.
