Story of my life.There is a razor-thin line between being perceived as kind beyond reproach, and being considered gullible to the point of stupid.
But no more. At least not as often as before, anyways.
I’ve also learned to admit to myself that i’m a fucking coward. There, i’ve said it. For someone who’s supposed superpower is his mouth, i haven’t been very good at opening it to tell people if i’m not happy. I’m a coward for engraving on my brain that because i have admittedly been living a rather blessed life, i have a supposed responsibility to share my supposed blessings through kindness and generosity.
But the blanket’s been pulled, so has the pillow, and i’m sniffing a lot of coffee in the air. Good morning, me. Yeah.
Responsibility, my ass.
At this point in my life, I keep wondering to myself why on earth human beings seem to consider it their God-given duty to exploit the kindness of the ones who give it. As the world gets older, optimism even among our youth seems to dissipate that much more quickly. And optimists like me have been branded by too many as little more than quixotic fools.
The past year saw yours truly going unnaturally nuclear on a handful of situations. Totally uncharacteristic of the “me” i’ve known for the past two and a half decades, but not too unlike the much younger me, nor the father side’s supposed genetic temper.
As i lose my temper more and more often in recent memory, my self-written reputation for being jolly, excitable, but occasionally humorously nonchalant is slowly becoming little more than a legend i cultivate in my sad, fertile imagination. The character i want Jasper Lao Golangco to be. I have even fabricated enough about my own persona by throwing in the word “Greek” as part of my name on non-official situations.
Which begs the question: Who’s the “real” me?
‘catch you later.