Lately, life has been pretty difficult for me, so I guess that's another reason I haven't been posting as much. I shan't go into detail, because I'm too irritated about it to, but suffice it to say, I have not really been at my best at anything lately.
So I am taking a summer PE course this year, and through it, I have made an acquaintance of sorts. We talk about a great deal of things, and among these things, we were discussing about our biggest flaws. He told me that my biggest flaw was being too much of a realist, that it was sort of depressing at times.
At first, that was really shocking to me. To most people, I am insanely arrogant, judicious, intimidating, and honestly, sort of scary. (To back up this claim, someone wrote on my yearbook "Thank you for not stabbing me. Please don't hurt me.") I am the epitome of teenage evil--smart, sadistic, terrifying, arrogant. And then I realised that that's simply how most people see me, because I don't like associating with people much. I don't do that to my acquaintance guy, henceforth referred to as Runner (because that's what he does). So he sees me a little bit more clearly than the vast majority of people.
In some ways, I suppose, my realism is justified. There is not a situation where I don't consider all angles and then make a judgment based on that. I also sort of knock over everyone else's beliefs if I think they're wrong, which is where I suppose the arrogance comes from. I like to think of it as I am simply stating my opinion, but it may come off a little more forcefully than that.
In other
ways, I have no realism at all. I’ve told Runner multiple times about my dream
of breeding giant mantis shrimps that can breathe on air and are totally
obedient to me. I’ve sung about ponies and ponies and ponies and ponies, and
I’m pretty sure that I once tried to provide factual evidence that the Doctor
exists (he does! Really!).
I suppose
he thinks I am too realistic because I have this really odd tendency to try to
counter everything that everyone says. They see it as beating them down, but I
see it as pointing out possible flaws and, well, actually being able to do it.
For example, the other day, Runner was telling me about how he wanted to
teleport, and I was coming up with all these scientific arguments that it
wasn’t possible (even though it totally is, or will be one day), and he was
just like, “It’s gonna happen!” It’s mostly that I want backup and proof for
anything that people say, because I’m a scientist at heart, and that’s what
scientists require. If you want to do it, okay, that’s great. But provide me
with proof of how you are going to do
it, and people get stuck.
Another
part in my so-called realism is my life. So far, and especially in the past
several years, I’ve not had the happiest life in the world, though I have been
extremely lucky in some accounts (thank you, people who put up with me). After
everything that I have gone through, the world is sort of bleak and unpromising
to me, and that makes it so that I can shoot down most ideals. I just go, “But
you know that’s not going to really happen, right? Because of this this this
this and this.”
But Runner
is definitely right that I am a realist. One of my excellent, genius friends
has a lifelong dream to go to MIT, and he gets a little bit depressed when he
thinks about getting in. In this scenario, when someone is depressed about
getting into their dream college, most people would probably go like, “I’m sure
you’ll get in, you’ll have no problem! After all, you’re one of the smartest
people I know.” I don’t do that. I do this: “Yeah, well, you might get in, but
if you don’t, you have to learn to accept the possibility of going elsewhere.
They only accept 7% of applicants; you have to admit the odds aren’t good.
Sure, you can get in. But you also may not, and you have to accept that.” etc.
I can’t
tell if my tactlessness helps with this realism, because I have been told
(several times) before that I have less tact than a rock, a rock having no tact
at all. I guess it only helps in communicating my so-called realism to others.
I have no qualms about stating outright what I think is wrong. My history
teacher and I had a very intense argument about what makes someone evil, and I
disagreed with him blatantly. Generally, talking to that particular teacher the
way I did usually gets people detention, but I didn’t, because the teacher knew
that I knew what I was talking about…and also because he knows my tendency to
disagree unless I agree.
There is a
very fine line between realism and pessimism. Pessimism, to me, is seeing the
negative side of everything, while realism is realizing that there is both good
and bad, and having taken care of the good, must now take care of the bad.
Therefore, realism is often seen in a much more negative light than it really
is, simply because the bad (or the impossibilities) require more work and
attention than the good (or the givens and dreams).
However, as
realistic as I am, I’m not sure that’s my worst flaw. I have another terrible
flaw—holding grudges. In general, I have amazing patience when it comes to people
I care about (seriously, ask a couple of my friends), but once they push me too
far, I never forgive them. Ever. I forgive a lot, I tell people it’s okay a
lot, but once it goes past a certain point, it snaps, and I don’t ever let go
of it. I had a great friend once, probably the best friend I ever had, and then
he went too far, and I just completely broke off contact with him, and now
never want to talk to him again. I used to adore him, and now he disgusts me. I
don’t think he’s even human anymore. And I can’t ever forgive him, because I
did it a million times, and he pushed too far a million and one times.
I also have
a terrible temper. It rarely flares with people, either because I don’t care or
I actually care about them, but if it is with one of those people who have
pushed me a little too far…well, it’s really
not pretty. I have no patience for them, and what would normally be a mere
glance of annoyance with others is like an internal eruption with them.
But
personally, I think my worst flaw is caring too much. Despite being hurt by
pretty much every friend I have ever made, I continue giving all of myself to
every new friend I have. I don’t have many friends, but those that do hold my
heart. It’s terrible. I forgive them for nearly everything they do, I hold on
long past what is reasonable, and I honestly freak out whenever I think some of
them are hurt in any way. It really is pathetic, but I can’t help it. Some part
of me feels eternally grateful to every person I meet who can stand me, who I
can personally deal with for more than five minutes without wanting to stab
them in the eye with a rusty cuchara, who has some intelligence of some sort.
Some I feel sorry for and I just help them along. And of course, there is that
thing I read in a book once—“The most dangerous flaws are those that are good
in moderation.”
And because
of this flaw, I am cold and sadistic and aloof to pretty much everyone.
Sometimes I try to be welcoming, but for the most part, I am sarcastic and
cynical beyond what is acceptable by any standards save mine. Anyone who can
put up with that and isn’t annoying automatically levels up in my book, which
is actually only a very few people. Since friendship is based on mutual
feelings of “I like you, you like me,” and I like hardly anybody, I can afford
to care more about those that I do like.
I suppose
the endpoint to this is that I seem to be a great many things to many people,
and I am all of those things. One guy says that I am complete sentimental mush
and passion-driven, someone else says that I am an emotionless robot cyborg
android thing, someone says that I am the sweetest and nicest person they’ve
ever known, and yet someone else says that I am the cruelest and meanest person
they’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. Some see me as a scientist, others as
a musician, still others as an author, a mathematician, an artist, a reader,
and an athlete. One guy told me that I was the most self-interested, arrogant
person he’d ever seen, and that very evening, someone else yelled at me for
having no self esteem. One person told me I was amazing and awesome and
completely brilliant and perfect, and then someone else told me I needed to go
to hell. (yeah…people feel sort of strongly about me…)
All of
these are true. They are just different faces for different people, and how you
interpret my face is completely up to you. I am most definitely not perfect
(making the opinion of whoever called me perfect null and void), but I am
certainly a lot of things. And to be honest, I like being those things, because
all the colors of the rainbow make white.
